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SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


GAIL  HAMILTON," 


Author  of  "Country  Living  and  Country  Thinking,'''  "  Gala  Days,"  "A  New 
Atmosphere,"  "  Woman's  Worth  and  Worthlessness,"  &c. 


And  Moses  said  unto  the  Lord,  O  my  Lord,  I  am  not 
eloquent,  but  I  am  slow  of  speech  and  of  a  slow  tongue. 

Behold,  they  will  not  believe  me,  nor  hearken  unto 
my  voice :  for  they  will  say,  The  Lord  hath  not  appeared 
unto  thee. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  him,  Who  hath  made  man's 
mouth  ?    Have  not  I  the  Lord  ? 

Now,  therefore,  go,  and  I  will  be  with  thy  mouth,  and 
teach  thee  what  thou  Shalt  say. 


BOSTON: 

WILLIAM    F.    GILL    AND    COMPANY, 

309  Washington  Stbeet, 

OPPOSITE     OLD     SOUTH    CilUECH. 

1876. 


Copyright. 
William  F.  Gill  &  Co. 

1875. 


STEREOTYPED  BY 

C.  J.  Petebs  &  Son,  73  Federal  Stbeet,  Boston. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Imperiousness  of  Truth 9 

Adam 33 

The  "Blue  Blood"  of  Canaan 63 

Our  Charities 87 

Religious  Beggary 169 

Heavenly  Heathenism 207 

Prayer 227 

Tea-Party  Salvation 245 

The  Land  of  Broken  Promise 259 

Missionary  Musings 291 

The  Laws  of  Anger 331 

The  Sighing  of  the  Prisoner 347 

Fair  Play 375 


THE  IIPEKIOUSNESS  OF  TKUTH. 


SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH. 

[HERE  is,  and  there  can  be,  no  conflict 
between  scientific  truth  and  religious  truth. 
Scientific  men  so  far  as  they  are  honest, 
and  religious  men  so  far  as  they  are  honest,  are  in 
pursuit  of  one  and  the  same  object.  All  controversy, 
all  apparent  contradiction,  springs  from  the  ignorance 
of  the  persons  who  are  engaged  in  it.  From  a  few 
facts  that  come  within  its  ken,  the  Church  constructs 
a  system  of  theology  ;  and  from  its  few  facts  the  world 
constructs  a  sj'stem  of  science.  Both,  by  reason  of 
the  limited  knowledge  of  the  constructors,  must  be 
very  defective  ;  and  from  these  defects  it  follows  that 
the  two  systems  clash,  inevitably  clash.  But  between 
the  divine  plan  of  theology  and  the  divine  framework 
of  science  is  no  clashing.  They  are  not  simply  har- 
monious :  they  are  one.  Science  is  but  a  knowledge 
of  the  divine  method.     What  else  is  theology?    Both 

9 


10  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

have  God  for  the  basis  and  background.  Even  if  the 
votaries  of  science  refuse  to  speak  the  divine  name, 
they  are  equally  in  search  of  the  divine  Being.  God 
is  not  less  God,  because  you  call  him  an  original 
Principle. 

"What,  then,  are  we  striving  for,  —  to  defend  our 
own,  or  to  discover  the  divine  system?  Who  believes 
that  he  has  found  all  truth  ?  Who  believes  that  he  has 
discovered  enough  to  make  it  worth  while  to  expend 
his  breath  in  defending  it,  except  so  far  as  attack  and 
defence  are  the  handmaids  of  discovery?  Certainly  no 
theory  is  indispensable,  except  the  theory  which  com- 
prehends all  things  ;  and  that  we  shall  never  compass 
in  this  world.  No  fact  is  fatal,  so  it  be  a  fact.  As  a 
fact  it  must  have  its  appropriate  niche  in  the  temple  of 
Nature,  "  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God." 

Yet  a  clerical  discussion  of  certain  scientific  theories 
closes  with  this  statement :  — 

"  Such,  in  a  word,  is  the  question  which  the  thinking 
portion  of  the  religious  world  are  now  considering. 
Shall  we  refuse  to  admit  the  possibility'  that  these  views 
can  be  true,  under  the  idea  that  they  exclude  the  ex- 
istence of  creative  power  ?  or  shall  we  gladly  receive 
them,  if  we  find  them  sustained  by  the  evidence,  on 
the  ground  that  they  vastly  magnify  the  extent  and 
grandeur  of  its  action?  " 

If  this  be  true,  the  religious  world  is  surely  stultify- 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH.  11 

ing  itself  with  a  remarkable  and  appalling  unanimity. 
If  this  be  true,  the  religious  world  has  not  }~et  learned 
the  A,  B,  C,  of  discovery  in  any  truth  whatever.  Such 
truth  as  it  holds,  it  holds  by  imposition  or  by  accident, 
not  by  original  acquirement ;  for  its  method  is  all 
wrong.  It  speaks  as  if  truth  were  a  matter  of  choice 
and  of  consequences.  B3*  its  own  confession,  it  does 
not  ask,  "Is  this  true?"  but  "Will  it  do  for  us  to 
admit  that  it  is  true  ? "  It  is  not  concerned  to  know 
what  the  facts  are,  but  whether  it  can  stand  the  conse- 
quences of  admitting  those  facts.  The  argument  is 
not,  "  The  Darwinian  theory  is  the  correct  theory,  and 
must  therefore  be  accepted;"  but,  "In  spite  of  all 
ecclesiastical  fear,  the  Darwinian  theor}r  is  not  onfynot 
opposed  to  church-teachings,  but  realty  upholds  them. 
Therefore  we  need  not  be  afraid  to  receive  it." 

In  scientific  investigation,  consequences  are  not  to 
be  considered.  Falsehood  is  always  dangerous :  truth 
is  always  harmless.  Where  it  seems  to  be  injurious,  it 
is  more  often  the  preceding  and  surrounding  falsehood, 
than  even  the  injudicious  application  of  the  truth,  which 
works  woe.  This  very  Darwinian  theory  is  a  case  in 
proof.  No  one  knows  whether  it  be  true  or  false,  or 
whether  our  theory  of  the  Creator  be  true  or  false  ;  but, 
granting  both  to  be  true,  the  one  is,  as  the  writer  quoted 
saj'S,  absolutely  harmless  to  the  other.  It  was  supposed 
to  be  subversive  of  the  divine  Being  only  by  those  who 


12  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

did  not  comprehend  the  theory.  But  whether  harmful 
or  harmless  is  not  the  question.  The  only  question  is, 
What  is  truth?  It  is  irrelevant,  it  is  mere  charlantan- 
ism,  to  ask  on  what  ground  we  shall  receive  views :  if 
we  find  them  sustained  by  the  evidence,  that  is  ground 
enough.  The  sole  point  is,  are  they  sustained  hy  the 
evidence?  If  the}'  are,  we  must  receive  them,  whether 
we  like  it  or  no,  whether  they  subvert,  or  confirm,  our 
theories.  There  is  no  choice  in  the  matter.  God  is 
not  the  God  of  this  world  by  sufferance,  but  by  sove- 
reignty. He  borrows  no  leave  to  be,  from  savant  or 
saint.  He  cannot  be  volatilized  out  of  his  universe 
by  chemical  agency,  nor  kept  in  it  by  any  labored 
harmony  of  the  Gospels,  or  geology  of  Genesis.  If  he 
is  here  at  all,  he  is  here  by  his  own  will  and  act,  and 
here  to  sta}^ 

One  might  say  that  the  Darwinian  theory  had  as  few 
facts  to  stand  on,  and  had  to  go  as  far  to  get  them,  as 
any  theory  ever  framed  by  man ;  but  that  is  not  to  the 
purpose. 

Not  entirely  alike,  }-et  not  wholly  dissimilar,  is 
another  paragraph  from  a  religious  review :  — 

"  The  reduction  of  the  biblical  doctrine  of  the  Devil 
to  a  mythical  personification  of  evil,  and  of  the 
account  of  the  fall  to  a  poetic  representation,  admits  a 
principle  of  interpretation  fatal  alike  to  the  historical 
and  the  moral  weight  of  the  Scriptures." 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS  OF  TRUTH.  13 

Here  both  the  statement,  and  the  principle  which 
underlies  it,  may  be  questioned.  It  is  by  no  means 
certain  that  an  allegorical  interpretation  of  the  fall  of 
man  is  fatal  to  the  historical  or  moral  weight  of  the 
Scriptures  ;  and,  if  it  be,  what  of  it?  The  issue  is  not, 
What  becomes  of  the  Bible  if  the  Devil  was  a  myth  ? 
but,  Was  the  Devil  a  myth?  It  is  not  to  be  asserted 
that  a  story  written  in  a  certainly  remote  and  a  proba- 
bty  indefinite  past,  in  a  country  and  among  a  people 
wholly  different  from  our  own,  is  to  be  understood  pre- 
cisely as  we  should  understand  a  story  of  America  to- 
da}r.  Nor  is  it  to  be  denied  that  large  portions  of  the 
Bible  are  poetical  and  literary,  not  scientific  or  meta- 
physical. Even  its  history  is  not  the  history  of  Hume 
and  Gibbon.  Language  itself  has  changed  significance 
in  changing  skies,  and  often  puts  us  at  loggerheads. 
The  Devil,  we  all  agree,  got  into  the  Bible  by  a  myth ; 
and  it  is  surely  not  unreasonable  that  he  should  go  out 
the  same  way.  The  first  account  of  the  creation  says 
nothing  about  the  fall  of  man.  The  second  says 
nothing  about  the  Devil.  The  only  Deus  ex  macJiina 
is  a  serpent.  That  serpent  cannot  be  turned  into  the 
Devil,  except  on  the  principle  of  poetic  interpretation 
and  mythical  personification.  So  we  are  not  called 
upon  to  admit  the  principle.  The  principle  is  already 
there.     "  '  Nobody  asked  you,  sir,'  she  said." 

This  principle  is  more  nearly  vital  than  fatal  to  the 

2 


14         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

historical  and  moral  weight  of  the  Scriptures.  I  do 
not  care  particularly  about  the  Devil.  A  bad  man  is 
a  bad  man,  whether  he  is  tempted  of  the  Devil,  or 
whether  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust,  and  enticed. 
It  is  rather  satisfactory,  on  the  whole,  to  have  some 
one  to  lay  the  blame  on  besides  ourselves.  At  any 
rate,  Satan  is  under  precisely  the  same  laws  as  our- 
selves, and  to  be  combated  exactly  as  if  he  were  a  vile 
inclination  or  a  bad  habit.  But  on  what  principle  do 
we  in  ninetjr-nine  cases  proffer  an  allegory  as  the  true 
interpretation,  and  in  the  hundredth  case  not  only 
deny  the  allegory,  but  decree  that  an  allegorical  theory 
would  destroy  the  Bible?  How  can  it  be  lawful  to 
poetize  a  snake,  and  not  only  unlawful,  but  revolution- 
ary, to  poetize  the  tree  he  coiled  on,  according  to  the 
old  pictures?  We  do"  not  hesitate  to  accredit  our 
Roman  Catholic  brethren  with  the  woman  sitting  upon 
the  scarlet  beast  of  the  Revelation.  Why  may  we  not 
use  equal  freedom  towards  the  woman  parleying  with 
the  serpent  of  Genesis?  The  seven  heads  and  ten 
horns  of  the  beast  are  not  more  suggestive  of  poetry 
than  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  that 
springs  in  the  garden.  Who  is  it  that  says  to  poetry 
and  parable,  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther"? 
What  sovereign  commentator  has  announced,  "  Every 
story  of  the  Bible  thou  mayst  freely  allegorize ;  but 
the  story  of  the  Devil  and  the  story  of  the  Garden  of 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS  OF  TRUTH.  15 

Eden  thou  shalt  not  allegorize  ;  for,  in  the  day  that 
thou  touchest  that,  thou  shalt  surely  die,  and  the  Bible 
with  thee  "  ? 

When  our  creed  declares  that  we  hold  all  Scripture 
to  be  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  every  one  yields 
ready  assent :  when  it  goes  on  immediately —  as  if  the 
one  thing  were  involved  in  the  other  —  to  constitute 
the  Bible  our  complete  rule  of  faith  and  practice,  the 
only  rule  to  direct  us  how  we  may  glorify  God  and 
enjo}T  him,  we  do  not  always  have  our  thoughts  suffi- 
ciently about  us  to  consider  whether  the  second  propo- 
sition is  really  implied  in  the  first,  or  whether  it  is 
actually  true,  or  what  it  definitely  means. 

I  suppose  creeds  are  not  framed  for  keeping  people 
out  of  the  Church,  but,  rather,  to  keep  out  heresy,  to 
keep  out  dangerous  theological  falsehood.  The  bene- 
fit arising  from  church  organization  is  so  great,  or 
must  be  assumed  to  be  so  great,  that  we  surely  ought 
to  aim  at  bringing  into  the  church-fold  all  who  can  be 
brought  in  with  truth  and  honor.  It  will  be  agreed 
by  every  one,  that  we  ought  not  to  impose  needless 
restraints,  that  we  ought  not  to  ^demand  belief  in 
statements  of  questionable  purport  and  of  doubtful 
authority. 

What  does  it  amount  to  when  we  say  that  the  Scrip- 
tures are  our  only  sufficient  rule  of  faith  and  practice  ? 
They  are  not  like  a  rule  of  arithmetic.     They  are  not 


16  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

like  a  statute  of  law.  These  are,  for  the  greater  part, 
exact,  and  to  be  definitely  applied.  The  only  way  in 
which  the  Scriptures  furnish  a  rule  is  in  supplying 
principles,  in  softening  and  purifying  the  heart,  in 
tranquillizing  the  temper,  in  developing  the  conscience, 
and  putting  us  in  the  right  frame  of  mind  to  make  a 
rule  for  ourselves.  They  furnish  a  rule,  just  as  the 
quarry  furnishes  to  the  sculptor  his  angel :  he  must 
dig  it  out.  When  the  Scriptures  do  give  a  rule,  the 
first  thing  we  do  is  to  show  how  often  it  ought  to  be 
broken.  The  sacred  writer  makes  a  statement,  and  we 
at  once  turn  to  and  prove  beyond  a  doubt  that  he  does 
not  mean  what  he  says.  "  Owe  no  man  an}'  thing  but 
to  love  one  another,"  says  Paul;  but  who  refrains 
from  borrowing  money  on  that  account?  "  Whoso- 
ever shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him 
the  other  also,"  says  Christ;  but,  if  a  man  smite  us, 
we  prosecute  him  at  the  North,  and  knock  him  down  at 
the  South.  "  Swear  not  at  all,"  said  the  same  divine 
person ;  and  we  not  only  swear,  but  hold  that  an  oath 
is  a  peculiarly  sacred  and  solemn  thing.  I  do  not  say 
that  we  are  contumacious  or  rebellious  in  doing  thus  ; 
but,  so  long  as  we  are  in  fact  chiefly  a  law  unto  our- 
selves, why  do  we  pretend  in  our  creeds  to  take  the 
Scripture  as  our  only  rule  of  faith  and  practice  ? 

We  have  a  great  theoretical  dread  of  rationalism : 
nevertheless  we  do  constantly  bring  our  own  reason  to 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS  OF  TRUTH.  17 

bear  upon  the  precepts  of  the  Bible.  The  most  con- 
scientious, the  most  devout,  the  most  orthodox,  does 
not  make  the  Bible  his  only  rule  of  faith  and  practice. 
He  puts  the  Bible  and  his  own  common  sense  together ; 
and  the  two  furnish  him  a  rule.  Why  is  it  worse  to 
say  that  we  consider  our  own  reason  as  authoritative 
as  the  Bible,  than  it  is  always  to  interpret  and  construe 
the  Bible  by  our  own  reason?  When  the  Bible  con- 
tradicts our  judgment,  we  do  not  obey  the  Bible,  and 
fling  our  judgment  to  the  winds :  we  follow  our  judg- 
ment, and  say  that  the  passage  is  obscure  ;  that  it 
means  something  different  from  what  it  appears  to 
mean.  We  explain  it  all  away.  We  think  we  can  get 
more  truth  out  of  witnesses,  with  oaths  than  without 
oaths:  so  when  Christ  said,  "Swear  not  at  all,"  we 
say  that  he  only  meant,  swear  not  except  in  certain 
circumstances.  When  the  Almighty  saj'S,  "I  loved 
Jacob,  and  I  hated  Esau,"  it  conflicts  with  our  ideas 
of  what  God  ought  to  do ;  and  our  most  scrupulous 
commentators  do  not  scruple  to  say  that  God  did  not 
really  hate  Esau,  but  only  loved  him  less  than  he  did 
Jacob.  When  God  said  unto  the  man,  "  In  the  day 
that  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die,"  we 
affirm  that  he  only  meant  that  man  should  on  that  day 
become  liable  to  death.  What  is  this  but  making  our 
human  judgment  paramount  to  Scripture  ? 

This  is  precisely  what  the  Bible  authorizes  us  to 
2* 


18  SERMONS   TO   THE  CLERGY. 

do.  I  find  no  scriptural  warrant  for  making  the  Bible 
our  only  rule  of  faith  and  practice  ;  but  I  find  abundant 
warrant  for  making  the  Bible  an  authoritative  reference- 
book  for  faith  and  practice  ;  and  the  human  reason  the 
proper  and  prescribed  investigator.  It  may  be,  as  is 
asserted,  that  the  Westminster  Confessions  and  Cate- 
chism, and  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  and  the  Dord- 
recht Formulas,  are  unsurpassed  as  specimens  of  logical 
precision  ;  and,  if  what  we  wanted  were  perfect  logical 
systems  and  statements,  we  might  go  farther,  and  fare 
worse.  But  what  we  want  is  not  a  perfect  logical 
circle  above  our  heads,  but  concrete  divine  truth  in 
our  hearts.  Now,  with  all  respect  to  the  creed-makers, 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  Scriptures  give  a  better  account 
of  themselves  than  any  man  has  given  of  them.  For 
displa}Ting  the  origin  and  object  of  Scripture,  its  pre- 
cise relation  to  human  life,  its  precise  place  in  the 
divine  economy,  and  its  best  showing  in  our  creeds, 
I  do  not  think  Nice,  Athanasius,  Prelate,  Pope,  or 
Puritan  has  ever  surpassed  Paul. 

"  All  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and 
is  profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction, 
for  instruction  in  righteousness.' ' 

There  we  have  no  iron-clad  "  rule,"  at  once  rigid  and 
fragile,  unbending,  and  therefore  constantly  breaking. 
It  is  a  precise  statement  of  the  case,  as  broad  and 
elastic  as  the  truth  itself,  needing  no  explanation  and 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH.  19 

no  supplement.  It  makes  the  Bible  not  a  rule,  but  a 
repertory  of  wisdom,  goodness,  truth,  and  love,  of 
divine  principles,  out  of  which  we  are  to  frame  our  own 
rules  on  our  own  responsibility. 

Even  this  great  responsibility  is  not  overwhelming. 
The  human  reason  which  is  to  work  on  the  Bible,  —  that 
mere  human  reason  which  some  flout  at,  and  which 
many  seem  to  look  upon  as  an  insidious  foe,  —  that 
very  reason  has  been  much  encouraged  by  these  Sacred 
Scriptures.  "There  is  a  spirit  in  man;  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Almighty  giveth  them  understanding," 
says  Elihu  in  the  Book  of  Job.  Only  twice  in  the 
Bible  is  the  word  "  inspiration  "  used.  In  both  places, 
it  is  the  inspiration  of  God.  In  one  passage,  inspira- 
tion gives  us  the  Bible  :  in  the  other,  it  gives  us  under- 
standing. If  it  is  said  that  Elihu,  the  son  of  Barachel 
the  Buzite,  is  not  as  good  authority  as  Paul,  I  can  only 
say  that  the  statement  is  one  that  can  hardly  be  proved 
or  disproved.  It  is  certain  that  though  Elihu  waited, 
as  was  proper,  being  a  young  man,  till  the  three  friends 
had  ceased  to  answer  Job,  yet,  when  he  did  speak,  he 
was  as  vigorous  and  pointed  and  decisive  as  any  of 
them.  And  though  we  are  told  that  the  anger  of  the 
Lord  was  kindled  against  the  other  three,  and  they 
were  forced  to  humiliate  themselves  before  Job,  not  a 
word  of  rebuke  was  passed  upon  Elihu.  Does  not  this 
silence  give  assent? 


20  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

But  we  are  not  dependent  upon  Elihu's  testimonj'. 
The  Lord  himself  "  answered  Job  out  of  the  whirlwind, 
and  said,  Who  hath  put  wisdom  in  the  inward  parts? 
or  who  hath  given  understanding  to  the  heart?"  im- 
plying more  strongly  than  a  mere  assertion  could  that 
God  himself  gave  understanding.  Solomon  tells  us 
expressly,  that  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  cometh 
knowledge  and  understanding ;  that,  to  the  man  that  is 
good  in  his  sight,  he  giveth  wisdom  and  knowledge  and 
jo}\  "  If  any  of  3'ou  lack  wisdom,"  sa}-s  James,  "  let 
him  ask  of  God  that  giveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and  it 
shall  be  given  him."  On  what  authority  do  we  throw 
distrust  and  suspicion  on  the  human  reason,  when  God 
himself  has  so  often  and  so  kindly  urged  us  to  use  it  in 
studying  his  Word  and  himself?  Wiry  do  we  shorten 
his  arm  by  asserting  that  the  Bible  is  all  we  have  to  go 
b}T,  when  he  has  promised  to  shine  directly  into  our 
own  minds,  and  to  let  us  know,  if  only  we  will  follow 
on  to  know  ? 

It  is  feared  and  asserted  that  a  reference  to  human 
reason  would  open  the  door  to  all  sorts  of  heresy ;  that 
leaving  out  certain  forms  from  our  creeds  would  be 
bringing  in  certain  other  forms  whose  root  is  evil,  and 
whose  fruit  is  death.  We  must  raise  barriers  against 
an  "  ever-restless,  ever-developing,  never-finished,  pro- 
gressive theolog}r."  It  will  not  do  to  confine  ourselves 
to  Bible  statements,  because  Bible  words  do  not  mean 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH.  21 

to  people  now-a-days  the  same  that  they  meant  to 
people  when  they  were  uttered.  They  have  lost  some- 
thing of  their  significance,  of  their  solemnity.  Words 
which  meant  then  only  one  thing  now  mean  whatever 
you  choose.  Explanation  and  interpretation  have  so 
perverted  the  sacred  texts,  that  the  Bible  can  no  longer 
be  trusted  among  the  people  unsupported,  but  must 
be  bulwarked  with  gloss  and  comment,  by  —  hy  whom  ? 
One  is  just  as  far  off  as  another  from  Bible  times. 
Arians  and  Arminians,  the  dark  ages  and  the  renais- 
sance, heres}^  and  schism,  brood  with  equal  gloom  over 
us  all.  If  the  language  of  the  Bible  has  been  per- 
verted to  almost  any  meaning  that  a  pretentious  ration- 
alizing may  put  upon  it,  how  shall  we  know  which  of 
those  meanings  to  incorporate  into  our  creed  as  the 
true  one?  If  the  sacred  writers  confined  themselves 
to  simple  statements,  because  their  hearers  were  too 
near  the  facts  to  make  any  mistake,  and  if  we  are  so 
far  off  that  we  are  liable  to  great  mistakes  unless  we 
have  additional  elaboration,  formulated  statements, 
inferences  and  systems  lifted  into  the  realm  of  funda- 
mental truth,  in  whom  rests  the  authority  to  make 
these  additions,  and  to  formulate  scriptural  simplicity, 
and  to  say,  once  for  all :  This  is  what  Christ  meant, 
this  is  the  real  gist  of  Paul's  words?  Have  we  an 
apostle  among  us?  The  prophets,  do  they  live  forever? 
Where  is  that  fountain  of  interpretation  of  which,  if  a 


22  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

man  drink,  he  shall  mistake  no  more?  Who  has  had 
this  supplementary  inspiration,  which  not  only  illumin- 
ates the  Scriptures  to  his  own  edification,  but  author- 
izes him  to  impose  his  interpretation  as  the  condition 
of  union  with  Christ's  visible  Church  on  earth? 

No  one  will  deny  the  claims  of  truth.  Sharp  and 
positive  convictions  are  better  than  an  indifferentism 
naming  itself  with  the  name  of  liberality.  Let  the 
Presbyterians  govern  themselves  by  a  synod,  and  the 
Congregationalists  guide  themselves  by  a  council,  and 
the  Universalists  stay  in  a  church  that  believes  God  is 
too  good  to  damn  them,  and  the  Unitarians  in  a  church 
that  believes  the}'  are  too  good  to  be  damned.  We 
need  advocate  no  levelling  of  necessary  barriers,  no 
sentimental  union  of  feebleness  and  fustian ;  but  if 
there  are  advantages  in  belonging  to  the  Church,  if  the 
communion  of  saints,  if  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  be  a  sacred  and  solemn  privilege,  we  have  no 
right  to  exclude  from  its  participation  those  whom  the 
Bible  docs  not  exclude.  Ye  take  too  much  upon  you, 
ye  sons  of  Levi,  when  ye  graff  the  wild  olive-branches 
of  j'our  own  conclusions  into  the  good  olive-tree  of 
God's  gospel,  and  call  it  all  alike  the  vinej^ard  of  the 
Lord. 

Few  of  us  who  have  read  the  story  of  Samson  have 
not  marvelled  at  the  means  which  Samson  took  to 
avenge   himself  on  his   father-in-law.     We  can  very 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS  OF  TRUTH.  23 

well  believe  that  he  carried  off  the  gates  of  Gaza  to  the 
hill  of  Hebron  ;  for  we  have  seen,  in  the  picture,  exactly 
how  he  did  it.  It  is  easy  to  understand  that  a  thou- 
sand men  should  be  slain  by  the  jawbone  of  an  ass  ;  for 
such  slaughter  is  not  wholly  unknown  to  modern 
society.  Any  remarkable  feat  of  strength  may  with 
impunity  be  ascribed  to  Samson ;  but  the  capture  of 
the  three  hundred  foxes  argues,  besides  superhuman 
strength,  an  "infernal  activity."  And  when  we  ob- 
serve that  these  foxes  were  not  only  caught,  as  might 
be  possible  in  a  trap  and  in  time,  but  were  caught  all 
at  once,  and  were  tied  every  one  tail  to  tail,  and  that  a 
burning  firebrand  was  secured  firmly  in  the  midst 
between  every  two  tails, — so  firmly  that  a  good  many 
of  the  foxes  must  have  run  a  considerable  distance 
before  the  brand  dropped  off,  if  it  dropped  off  at  all,  — 
it  must  be  admitted  that  very  large  draughts  are  made 
on  the  childlike  faith.  For  what  motive  had  Samson  ? 
To  catch  three  hundred  foxes,  and  tie  firebrands  to 
their  tails  in  order  to  set  your  neighbors'  cornfields  on 
fire,  savors  of  the  Western  mode  of  preventing  mos- 
quito-bites;  viz.,  to  catch  your  mosquito,  give  him 
chloroform,  and  extract  his  teeth.  It  would  seem 
easier  to  burn  up  every  cornfield  in  Massachusetts  with 
flint  and  steel  than  to  catch  a  hundred  foxes,  not  to 
mention  fastening  a  firebrand  between  their  tails.  Was 
Samson  afraid  to  go  into  the  cornfields  ?    But  did  he 


24  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

not  have  to  forage  after  the  foxes  quite  as  extensively? 
"Would  not  the  same  cunning,  agilitj*,  and  strength 
which  could  capture,  collect,  accoutre,  and  despatch 
three  hundred  foxes,  have  enabled  him  to  slip  into  as 
man}*  cornfields,  and  set  fire  to  them  all? 

It  is  amusing  to  see  how  nimble  our  commentators 
become  in  the  chase  of  those  three  hundred  foxes. 
The  foxes  turn  into  jackals  at  the  first  clip.  The  cap- 
tor is  furnished  with  a  pair  of  mittens  little  less  than 
miraculous.  He  is  allowed  as  many  assistants  as  the 
case  may  require.  The  foxes,  become  jackals,  are  sent 
over  the  country  in  swarms.  Samson  is  granted  an 
indefinite  extension  of  time .  The  Greek  term  ' '  jackal," 
we  are  told,  means  nimble;  and  the  Persian  jackal  is  a 
gloiving  coal.  The  red  fox  has  a  tail  like  a  burning 
torch;  and  the  Greek  word  "fox"  means  "  a  bright, 
burning  tail."  Ovid,  in  his  Festival  of  the  Cerealia,  and 
the  Feast  of  Vulpinaria,  and  the  tradition  of  the  glow- 
worm carrying  fire,  all  point  back  to  the  fire-foxes  of  the 
Philistines.  What  with  fable,  etymolog}*,  and  natural 
history,  we  become  bewildered,  and,  in  the  confusion  of 
law  and  legend,  find  ourselves  quite  read}*  to  welcome 
that  learned  Hebraist  who  rises  to  explain  that  some 
little  quirk  of  a  letter,  some  little  dubious  twist  in  the 
tail  of  a  comma,  has  made  those  foxes  out  of  a  shock  of 
corn,  and  sent  them  clattering  across  our  common  sense 
through  all  these  hundreds  of  years.     It  was  not  foxes 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS  OF  TRUTH.  25 

that  Samson  caught.  He  simply  gathered  shocks, 
sheaves,  bundles  of  corn,  and  such  combustible  matter, 
fastened  them  together,  and  set  the  fire  leaping  across 
the  field,  to  the  destruction  of  both  shocks  and  stand- 
ing corn,  vinej^ards  and  olives.  It  was  what  any 
shrewd  Danish  "  fire-bug"  might  have  done,  —  to  our 
nineteenth-century  sense,  a  perfectly  natural  way  of 
setting  the  farms  on  fire.  We  are  willing  those  three 
hundred  foxes  should  rest  in  peace  ;  and  for  us,  before 
we  fash  ourselves  with  strange  stories,  we  will  look  to 
our  P's  and  Q's. 

In  the  laws  given  to  the  Israelites,  after  they  had 
left  the  land  of  Egypt,  we  find  the  stern  sentence, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  suffer  a  witch  to  live  ;  "  in  obedience 
to  which  mandate,  thousands  of  men  and  women  —  the 
offscouring  of  the  earth,  and  saints  of  whom  the  world 
was  not  worthy  —  have  suffered  death  at  the  hands  of 
men.  Massachusetts  has,  I  believe,  the  honor  of 
having  first  reared  the  standard  of  rebellion  and  revolt 
against  the  devil  of  persecution,  of  torture,  and  of 
death ;  and  that  devil  she  cast  out.  But,  before  he 
went,  he  so  tore  and  bruised  her,  that  the  world  remem- 
bers only  how  the  evil  spirit  foamed.,  and  raged,  and 
remembers  not  that  the  foaming  and  raging  were  be- 
cause she  withstood  him  to  the  face,  and  crushed  him 
down,  and  cast  him  out.  So  her  good  is  evil  spoken 
of.  But  Giles  Corey  bore  the  peine  forte  et  dure;  and 
3 


26  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

the  venerable  white  hairs  of  that  saintliest  of  women, 
Rebecca  Nourse,  floated  from  the  gallows-tree  ;  and  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Burroughs  was  torn  from  wife  and  babies  in 
the  wilderness,  and  doomed  to  the  felon's  death, — 
because,  far  back  in  the  twilight  of  time,  a  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  had  rung  out  through  the  smoke  of  Sinai,  and 
reverberated  over  the  plains  and  the  desert:  "Thou 
shalt  not  suffer  a  witch  to  live."  Now  comes  up  a  wise 
man  of  the  East,  and  joins  hand  with  sundry  wise  men  of 
the  West,  and  all  jointly  and  severally  declare  that  the 
true  rendering  and  reading  is,  "  Thou  shalt  not  suffer 
a  witch  to  get  her  living."  The  Most  High  did  not 
command  his  people  to  do  to  death  these  wizards  and 
witches ;  but  he  forbade  them  to  allow  the  trade  of 
necromancy  to  be  carried  on  in  their  community. 

The  dead  cannot  rise  from  their  graves  to  receive  or 
to  give  atonement ;  and,  long  before  this,  I  trust  that  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Parrish  has  found  dust  enough  on  the  golden 
streets  to  bestrew  his  garments  of  repentance  for  the 
children  whom  he  led  astray,  and  the  men  and  women 
he  hunted  down.  Long  before  this,  I  trust,  have  the 
torture,  the  ignominy,  and  the  shame  which  wrought 
the  death,  and  shrouded  the  grave,  of  Rebecca  Nourse, 
been  lost  in  the  light  and  glory  of  heaven.  But,  for  all 
the  living,  there  is  hope  that  the  lesson  of  our  fathers' 
mistake  may  not  be  lost. 

It  is  of   very  little  consequence  in  itself  whether 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH.  27 

sheaves,  or  foxes,  set  fire  to  the  Philistine  vinej-ards'.  It 
is  not  of  the  first  importance,  whether,  in  one  particular 
passage,  a  witch  was  commanded  to  be  slain,  or  to  be 
forbidden  the  practice  of  her  arts  ;  for  there  are  other 
passages  of  similar  purport.  It  concerned  Abram 
chiefly,  whether  the  Moreh  to  which  he  passed  were  a 
burning,  perhaps  arid,  plain,  or  a  sheltering  and  restful 
oak.  There  is  authority  for  both.  The  point  is,  that, 
on  certain  words  of  Holy  Writ,  men  of  learning  and 
piety  differ  so  widety  as  to  change  the  whole  meaning 
of  statement  and  command,  —  differ,  in  at  least  one 
instance,  by  all  the  distance  that  stretches  between  life 
and  death.  How  unwise  is  it,  then,  how  unscientific, 
how  impious,  to  pin  our  faith  upon  a  word !  How 
absurd  to  make  the  gates  of  heaven  swing  or  shut  to 
any  open  sesame  which  one,  or  close  sesame  which 
another,  ma}r  think  himself  to  have  found  in  the  Bible  ! 
How  derogatory  is  it  to  the  divine  Being  to  suppose 
that  he  would  make  salvation  turn  upon  any  one  or  two, 
or  a  dozen,  interpretations  in  a  book,  when  a  dozen 
other  interpretations  are  admitted  to  be  so  doubtful 
that  the  world  cannot  agree  upon  their  truth  !  If,  when 
the  Bible  speaks  of  so  simple  a  thing  as  a  fox,  I  am 
expected  to  believe  it  means  a  jackal,  and  am  not  a 
heretic  if  I  think  it  means  a  shock  of  corn,  why  shall 
I  bar  from  heaven,  and  from  the  table  of  our  Lord  on 
earth,  my  brother  who  cannot  understand  that  "bap- 


28  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

tism"  in  the  Bible  means  "  immersion,"  or  my  brother 
who  cannot  comprehend  what  the  word  ' '  trinit}7 ' ' 
means,  which  is  not  in  the  Bible  at  all?  If  some  scrip- 
tural words  are  vital,  and  other  words  are  not  vital,  then 
we  need  a  supplementary  revelation  to  tell  us  which 
are  the  vital  words.  From  the  simple  fact  that  the 
revealed  word  of  God  is  dotted  with  statements,  which, 
whether  from  lapse  of  time,  or  change  of  language  and 
manners,  are  to  us  practically  incomprehensible,  I 
rather  infer  that  intellectual  comprehension  of  theo- 
logical truth  is  not  essential  to  salvation,  but  that, 
"in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  God,  and  worketh 
righteousness,  is  accepted  with  him." 

I  do  not  suppose  we  have  departed  any  farther  from 
the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints  than  the  divine 
Being  knew  we  should  depart.  When  he  inspired  the 
sacred  writers,  he  knew  just  as  well  what  the  perver- 
sions of  a  pretentious  rationalism  would  do  with  the 
words  as  our  modern  theologians  know  what  it  has 
done  with  them.  And  if  he  still  let  the  words  stand 
as  symbols  of  faith,  and  tests  of  piety,  cannot  we  afford 
to  let  them  stand?  Perhaps  the  ark  of  God  is  not  so 
unsteady  as  it  seems.  Perhaps  it  will  not  topple  over, 
even  if  we  leave  it  to  its  own  divine  strength.  It  has 
been  brought  forward  as  one  great  proof  of  the  divine 
origin  of  the  Bible,  that  it  was  not  confined  to  one  age 
and  one  people,  but  was  adapted  to  all  ages  and  all 


THE  IMPERIOUSNESS   OF  TRUTH.  29 

peoples.  What  becomes  of  this  miraculous  adapta- 
tion, if  it  must  be  supplemented  and  interpreted  and 
appendixed,  and  generally  pieced  out  and  filled  in, 
before  it  can  safely  be  trusted  as  a  lamp  unto  our  feet 
and  a  light  unto  our  path?  Christ  himself  sa}rs, 
"  Whosoever  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die."  But  we 
have  discovered  that  men  may  sa}^  they  believe,  and  yet 
say  nothing ;  may  call  Christ  the  Son  of  God,  and  yet 
mean  nothing.  Therefore  we  are  not  contented  that 
they  should  confess  Christ  before  men.  We  will  not 
even  let  them  simply  confess  Christ  before  men.  We 
build  up  a  wall  of  logical  precision,  and  verbal  exact- 
ness, and  metaphysical  distinction,  and  say  that  any 
man  that  entereth  by  the  door  into  the  sheepfold,  and 
climbeth  not  up  this  wa}^,  "  the  same  is  a  thief  and  a 
robber."  Would  it  not  be  better,  like  Christ,  to  put  a 
generous  construction  on  men's  motives,  to  believe  that 
he  who  is  not  positively  against  Christ  is  on  his  part ; 
that,  if  a  man  cares  enough  about  Christ  to  believe  in 
him  in  any  sort  of  way,  he  will  not  lightly  speak  evil 
of  him ;  that,  if  he  calls  him  the  Son  of  God,  he  cer- 
tainly means  nothing  bad  ?  He  ma}r  be  yet  far  off  from 
the  full  assurance  of  faith.  He  may  see  the  Lord  only 
through  a  glass  very  darkly  ;  but  why  is  he  to  be  treated 
as  a  lrypocrite,  a  pretender,  and  a  foe,  to  be  barred  out 
with  formula  and  exegesis,  to  be  unmasked  and  ex- 
posed, as  it  were,  and  not  rather  welcomed  in,  though 
3* 


30  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

"  not  to  doubtful  disputations  "  ?  Is  not  a  man  more 
likely  to  be  built  up  in  the  faith  inside  than  outside  the 
Church?  How,  then,  can  the  salvation  of  the  world  be 
furthered  by  multiplying  tests  beyond  those  which  God 
himself  laid  down  ?  If  Christ  could  trust  the  general 
honesty  of  human  nature  in  confessing  him,  why 
cannot  we? 

And  why  is  an  "  ever-restless,  ever-developing, 
never-finished,  progressive  theology  "  a  thing  to  be 
guarded  against?  Has  any  man,  or  any  school  of 
theologians,  ever  found  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfec- 
tion ?  A  very  high  authority,  long  ago,  declared,  that, 
''touching  the  Almighty,  we  cannot  find  him  out."  If 
he  be  indeed  infinite,  must  not  the  science  that  treats  of 
him,  unless  it  is  a  dead  science,  be  "  ever-restless,  ever- 
developing,  never-finished,  and  progressive  "?  It  will 
make  a  thousand  mistakes ;  but  the  greatest  mistake 
which  theology  can  make  is  to  fold  its  hands,  cease 
to  develop,  cease  to  progress,  and  say,  "  It  is  finished.' ■ 
All  the  ages  and  all  the  worlds  may  strive,  b}>-  search- 
ing, to  find  out  God ;  and  though  the  search  is  most 
blissful  in  process,  and  most  blessed  in  results,  always 
behind  it  remains  the  Almighty,  forever  found  by  the 
sincere  seeker,  yet  forever  and  forever  to  be  sought. 


ADAM. 


ADAM. 

|DAM'S  fall  is  a  very  discouraging  circum- 
stance. 

All  the  machinery  of  life  aims  to  bring 
man  into  a  state  of  moral  excellence.  Churches, 
schools,  newspapers,  are  to  make  him  good  and  wise. 
The  great  obstacle  is,  that  he  has  in  himself  so  much 
bad  blood,  and  is  surrounded  by  circumstance  so  un- 
toward. A  child  seems  to  be  made  up  of  the  traits  of 
many  generations.  He  gets  brightness  from  his 
mother,  deception  from  his  father,  a  furious  temper 
from  one,  self-restraint  from  another,  indolence  from  a 
third,  and  a  thousand  little  strains  of  strength  and 
weakness  which  once  variegated  the  lives  of  ancestors 
whom  living  eye  has  never  seen,  and  who  sleep  in 
forgotten  graves.  One  propensity  we  try  to  curb,  one 
tendency  to  develop.  We  do  not  expect  to  accomplish 
great  things  with  the  generation  now  on  the  stage ; 
but,  if  we  can  only  get  this  rising  race  started  fair,  we 
have  great  expectations  of  the  race  that  shall  come 
from  them.    Weak  and  wicked  parents  make  weak  and 


34  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

wicked  children.  Given  one  generation  of  upright, 
noble,  healthy  men  and  women,  and  the  world  is  fairly 
started  on  its  career  of  reform. 

But,  when  you  have  secured  your  noble  men  and 
women,  you  are,  at  the  farthest,  only  where  we  started 
six  thousand  years  ago.  Churches  and  schools,  family 
training  and  piety,  have  produced,  let  us  say,  the 
upright  generation  ;  but  it  is  no  better  than  was  Adam. 
Adam  was  upright  and  noble.  He  inherited  no  bad 
blood,  no  weak  trait.  No  stern  father,  no  indulgent 
mother,  helped  to  spoil  him.  No  society  flattered  and 
fooled  him.  He  was  a  perfect  and  holy  man.  God 
was  his  teacher  and  intimate  friend.  All  his  powers 
were  balanced,  all  his  faculties  in  harmony,  all  his 
wants  natural,  all  his  tastes  innocent.  Yet,  at  the  first 
touch  of  temptation,  down  he  went,  and  all  the  genera- 
tions with  him. 

And  it  was  no  great  temptation,  either.  If  it  were 
proper,  and  to  the  purpose,  one  could  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  be  thoroughly  angry  with  Adam  for  bringing 
us  into  our  estate  of  sin  and  misery  on  such  slight 
provocation.  Adam's  descendants,  all  degenerate  as 
they  are,  resist  a  thousand  stronger  temptations  every 
da}^.  There  are  many  sins  into  which  it  is  hardty  sur- 
prising that  a  man  should  fall.  When  the  appetite  for 
wine  has  once  taken  firm  hold  of  him,  the  wonder  is, 
that  he  should  ever  dispossess  himself  of  it.     It  is  not 


ADAM.  35 

incomprehensible  that  men  and  women  will  sacrifice 
wealth,  ambition,  even  honor,  to  love ;  for  love  is  a 
passion  so  absorbing,  so  overpowering,  that  judgment 
and  reason  nmy  be  held  captive  in  its  thrall.  It  is  in- 
conceivable that  a  man  should  commit  fraud  to  gratify 
a  love  of  display  and  self-indulgence ;  but  it  is  not 
inconceivable  that  he  should  commit  forgery  to  conceal 
fraud,  and  commit  suicide  to  escape  the  penalty  of 
forgery.  But  Adam  had  nothing  that  was  worthy  the 
name  of  temptation ;  and  he  had  every  thing  else. 
There  was  his  wife  made  on  purpose  for  him,  and  made 
out  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood ;  so  that  he  could  not 
find  fault  with  her.  There  was  no  other  woman  exist- 
ing to  be  compared  with  her  to  her  disadvantage,  or 
to  make  it  possible  for  him  to  think  he  might  have 
done  better.  No  overweening  appetite  tempted  him, 
for  he  had  perfect  liberty  and  perfect  likings,  except 
in  one  direction  ;  and  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  that 
he  ever  so  much  as  looked  in  that  direction  of  his  own 
accord.  He  had  not  a  single  want  or  wish  ungratified  ; 
and  all  his  gratification  was  moderate,  reasonable,  and 
wholesome, —  as  salutary  in  effect  as  it  was  pure  in 
enjoyment.  He  was  called  upon  to  crucify  no  natural 
propensity,  to  exercise  no  form  of  self-denial.  The 
forbidden  tree  was  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  good  for 
food  ;  but  so  was  every  tree  in  the  garden.  There  was 
no  reason  why  he  should  wish  to  eat  of  this  tree,  except 


36  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

that  the  Lord  God  had  told  him  not  to.  And  this  Lord 
God  was  no  tyrant,  no  mere  far-off  unseen  monarch 
even,  but  a  familiar  friend  in  whom  he  trusted,  who 
had  given  him  all  things  richly  to  enjoy,  who  had 
brought  all  the  creatures  of  the  earth  to  him  to  ac- 
knowledge fealty,  and  talked  with  him  as  a  man  talketh 
with  his  friend.  Now,  I  believe,  that,  all  fallen  and 
sinful  as  we  are,  there  are  thousands  of  men  and 
women  on  the  earth  to-day  who  would  stand  such  a 
test,  and  call  it  nothing.  They  would  do,  even  for  an 
earthly  friend,  for  friendship's  sake,  what  Adam  would 
not  do  for  the  sake  of  the  Lord  God.  Every  boy  who 
gives  up  smoking  to  please  his  father  and  mother  re- 
sists a  temptation  infinitely  stronger  than  that  which 
beset  Adam.  For,  let  it  be  always  remembered,  Adam 
was  not  hankering  after  the  forbidden  fruit.  There  is 
nothing  to  show  that  he  had  even  so  much  as  thought  of 
it,  or  was  any  thing  but  indifferent  to  it,  when  up  came  a 
beast  of  the  field,  and  suggested  to  Adam  and  Eve  that 
they  should  try  it.  That  was  all.  One  would  say  a 
thousand  beasts  of  the  field  might  have  beset  them, 
a  thousand  serpents  hissed  out  suggestions,  in  vain. 
What  was  a  serpent  in  comparison  with  the  Lord 
God  ?  Adam  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  beasts  of 
the  field  were  inferior  to  himself ;  for  he  had  been  set 
to  have  dominion  over  them.  He  could  not,  of  course, 
comprehend  the  Almighty ;  but  he  knew  enough  to 


ADA  M.  37 

know  that  he  was  Sovereign,  sovereignly  good  and 
wise,  and  to  be  revered,  obeyed,  and  adored.  Yet 
upon  the  first  suggestion  of  an  irresponsible,  unhelp- 
ing,  slanderous  serpent,  they  disregarded  his  wishes,  — 
I  will  not  say  disobeyed  his  commands,  —  apparently 
without  the  smallest  compunction,  misgiving,  or  re- 
morse, as  simply,  coolly,  and  heartlessly  as  if  they  had 
been  used  to  disobedience  ever  since  they  were  cre- 
ated. Veterans  in  faithlessness  could  hardly  have 
done  worse. 

Now,  if  these  things  are  done  in  a  green  tree,  what 
shall  be  done  in  a  dry?  If  Adam,  pure,  perfect,  holy, 
with  no  acquired  weakness  from  habit,  with  no  treach- 
ery of  inherited  traits,  with  no  temptation  fromungrat- 
ified  wants,  and  no  promptings  of  pride,  could  thus 
wantonly  fall  into  the  first  silly  sin  that  he  could 
stumble  upon,  how  shall  the  present  generation,  all 
borne  down  with  the  weight  of  accumulated  crime, 
enervated  by  centuries  of  weakness  and  vice,  beset  by 
temptations  that  Adam  never  knew  or  dreamed  of,  — 
how  shall  such  a  generation  even  think  of  maintaining 
itself  upright?  How  can  we  be  expected  to  stand 
where  Adam  fell  ?  And  suppose  we  do  stand,  suppose 
we  do  secure  an  upright  generation,  what  guaranty 
have  we  that  it  will  not,  upon  the  second  temptation, 
lapse  into  vice,  repeat  the  ruin  of  Adam,  and  so  give 
us  all  our  work  to  do  over  again  ?  What  hinders  the 
4 


38  SERMONS   TO   TEE   CLERGY. 

world's  progress  from  being  at  best  but  a  perpetual 
moral  see-saw — now  up,  next  down?  And  what 
encouragement  have  we  to  help  a  man  to  his  feet, 
when  his  first  act  after  he  gains  them  is  to  fall  flat 
upon  the  ground  again? 

Is  there  not  somewhere  a  flaw  in  our  exegesis? 
Simply  considered  as  literature  and  history,  it  might 
well  be  that  the  story  of  Genesis  had  not  yielded  up 
its  gem  of  the  ages  to  our  strictest  research.  Learn- 
ing, logic,  and  piety  have  striven  to  unfold  its  secret, 
and,  for  all  answer,  we  have  only  conflict  and  clashing. 
It  is  easier  to  say  what  cannot  be  the  true  meaning 
than  what  the  true  meaning  must  be.  Certainly  an 
interpretation  which  contradicts  the  ordinary  notions 
of  sense  and  justice  must  have  a  good  deal  to  say  for 
itself,  before  it  can  be  received  as  a  veracious  history, 
or  a  true  philosoplry,  of  the  ways  of  God  to  man.  A 
theory  which  starts  out  with  the  statement,  that, 

"In  Adam's  fall 
"We  sinned  all," 

it  cannot  be  irreverent  or  profane  to  question. 

If  a  man  in  New  York  or  Boston  had  grown  up  vir- 
tuous, amiable,  and  honorable,  and  in  his  mature 
years,  with  a  happy  family  surrounding  him  and 
depending  on  him,  should  suddenly  steal  a  million  dol- 
lars from  the  desk  of  his  best  friend,  not  because  he 


ADAM.  39 

was  in  need  of  money,  or  had  any  special  desire  for  it, 
but  because  a  veteran  pickpocket  had  suggested  to  him 
that  he  should,  we  should  say  the  man  had  lost  his 
mental  balance,  that  he  was  beginning  to  have  soften- 
ing of  the  brain.  If  we  read  the  story  in  the  reporter's 
column  of  the  morning  paper,  we  should  say,  "What 
absurd  stories  these  newspapers  invent,  now  that  the 
war  and  the  panic  are  over  !  "  But  Adam  had  a  better 
character  than  any  bank  president ;  and,  where  the 
defaulting  cashier  brings  only  his  own  family  to  grief, 
Adam  dragged  down  with  him  a  whole  world.  The 
great  comfort  in  doing  moral  work  is,  that,  once  done, 
it  sta}^s  done.  The  United  States  is  not  in  the  smallest 
danger  of  lapsing  into  Druidism.  The  vices  of  the 
freeclman  and  the  Indian,  we  say,  are  the  vices  engen- 
dered of  long  years  of  slavery  and  barbarism.  After  a 
few  successive  generations  of  freedom,  education,  and 
religion,  we  shall  see  that  the  one  is  not  incapable  of 
self-government,  nor  the  other  of  civilization.  Moral 
inertia  is  as  strong  as  plrysical  inertia.  No  man 
plunges  at  once  from  the  heights  of  virtue  to  the 
depths  of  vice.  It  is  not  the  man  of  wise  prudence, 
self-restraint,  large  views,  enlightened  conscience,  and 
liberal  mind,  who  slays  his  opponent,  even  in  a 
moment  of  passion.  It  is  the  man,  who,  however  fair 
to  far-seeing,  is  within  weakened  by  self-indulgence. 
He  only  falls  at  a  sudden  blow,  because  his  props  were 


40         SERMONS   TO  THE   CLERGY. 

never  well  set.  The  crash  of  disaster  may  be  sudden  ; 
but  a  long  series  of  secret  crimes,  weaknesses,  and 
selfishnesses,  led  up  to  it. 

If,  then,  our  theory  be  correct,  —  that  Adam  was 
created  holy,  and  that  he  fell,  at  the  first  comparatively 
slight  temptation,  into  iniquity  and  irreparable  ruin, — 
it  would  seem  that  he  must  have  been  very  differently 
constituted  from  any  of  his  descendants.  As  vast 
numbers  of  his  descendants,  in  their  fallen  state,  do 
resist  many  and  grievous  temptations,  and  as  Adam, 
in  his  unfallen  state,  created  in  the  image  of  God,  in 
knowledge,  righteousness,  and  holiness,  according  to 
the  Westminster  Catechism,  never  resisted  any,  it 
seems  to  follow  that  an  estate  of  knowledge,  righteous- 
ness, and  holiness,  is  less  favorable  to  goodness  than 
is  an  estate  of  sin  and  misery. 

But  is  not  that  a  conclusion  in  which  nothing  is  con- 
cluded ? 

There  is  a  theory  that  Adam  was  not  positively  holy, 
but  negatively  innocent ;  that  he  had  perfect  moral 
purity,  but  not  moral  strength.  That  may  be ;  but 
that  makes  him  a  man  in  physical  and  mental  powers, 
while  morally  a  bab}'.  If  that  be  the  true  theory,  then 
it  seems  hardly  fair  to  have  made  Adam  the  represen- 
tative man  of  the  race.  Ordinarily  the  moral  faculty, 
though  opening  later  than  the  other  faculties,  arrives 
far  sooner  at  maturity.      Adam's  descendants  have 


ADAM.  41 

usually  a  very  clear  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  long 
before  they  have  a  very  correct  sense  of  what  is  wise 
or  unwise,  prudent  and  imprudent.  But,  if  Adam  was 
created  with  mind  and  bod}^  fully  developed  while  his 
moral  sense  was  infantile,  he  was  so  different  from  the 
rest  of  mankind,  that  it  is  not  just  to  bring  them  all  to 
destruction  because  he  fell :  it  is  not  just  that  the  fate 
of  a  whole  race,  whose  moral  powers  ordinarily  keep 
pace  with  its  mental  and  physical  powers,  should  be 
put  to  the  test  of  the  only  man  in  it  whose  moral 
power  was  created  organically  weaker  and  tardier  than 
his  other  powers.  A  chain  is  no  stronger  than  its 
weakest  link ;  but,  when  we  would  strengthen  the 
chain,  we  do  not  begin  by  reducing  every  link  to  the 
weakness  of  the  weakest. 

If  the  answer  to  a  question  in  addition  do  not 
"  prove,"  we  try  it  over  again.  The  very  number  and 
earnestness  of  the  solutions  which  have  been  given  to 
this  problem  indicate  that  the  answer  will  not 
"  prove."  But  the  record  of  an  event  so  august  as 
the  foundation  of  a  world  has  been  thought  worthy 
the  closest  stud}',  the  most  continuous  attention,  and 
is  full  of  the  deepest  interest. 

The  story  of  Genesis  can  hardly  be  intended  as  a 

literal  scientific  statement.     "  The  Lord  God  planted  a 

garden.     And  out  of  the  ground  made  the  Lord  God 

to  grow  every  tree  that  is  pleasant  to  the  sight,  and 
4* 


42  SERMONS   TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

good  for  food."  But  could  any  one  garden  contain 
every  kind  of  tree  to  be  found  in  every  sort  of  climate, 
—  in  torrid,  temperate,  and  frigid  zones?  "  The  tree 
of  life,  also,  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  and  the  tree  of 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil."  What  sort  of  trees  are 
these  ?  What  nurseryman  has  ever  had  the  seedlings  ? 
What  gardener  has  ever  eaten  the  fruit  ?  We  find  our- 
selves, at  the  very  outset,  palpably  and  unquestionably 
in  the  midst  of  an  allegory.  Something  nrysterious 
and  uncomprehended,  whether  or  not  incomprehensi- 
ble, is  represented  as  the  tree  of  life,  planted  in  the 
garden  where  man  entered  upon  his  active  career.  In 
the  holy  cit}',  the  New  Jerusalem,  whither  this  world 
leads  and  leaves  him,  the  same  mysterious  tree  blooms 
down  the  centre  of  the  golden  street,  and  shadows  the 
banks  of  the  river  of  life,  yields  every  month  its  teem- 
ing fruitage,  and  offers  even  its  "  leaves  for  the  healing 
of  the  nations." 

Was  it  a  literal  plot  of  land  in  Asia  that  bore  this 
tree  ?  And  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  — 
does  it  spring  in  any  earthy  soil  ?  Is  it  propagated  by 
grafting  ?  Is  it  nurtured  by  irrigation  ?  Is  it  blighted 
by  earh'  frost?  Does  it  grow  side  b}'  side  with  apples 
and  apricots?  We  see  at  once  that  the  idea  is  absurd. 
These  are  allegorical  trees,  symbolical  trees ;  and,  if 
they  are  allegorical,  the  garden  in  which  they  are 
planted,  the  whole  story  in  which  they  are  found,  not 


ADAM.  43 

only  may  be,  but  must  be  presumed  to  be,  allegorical. 
It  is  contrary  alike  to  the  laws  of  literature  and  of 
sound  reason,  that  an  allegorical  tree  should  be 
planted  in  an  agricultural  garden. 

What  we  cannot  fail  to  notice  in  the  story  of  Gene- 
sis is,  that  the  Lord  God  said  to  Adam,  "  Of  the  tree 
of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  thou  shalt  not  eat 
of  it ;  for,  in  the  day  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt 
surely  die."  But  the  serpent  said,  "Ye  shall  not 
surely  die  ;  for  God  doth  know,  that  in  the  day  ye  eat 
thereof,  then  your  eyes  shall  be  opened,  and  ye  shall  be 
as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil." 

And  the  serpent  was  right  about  it.  Adam  and  Eve 
ate  the  fruit,  and  they  did  not  die,  as  the  Lord  God 
said  they  would  ;  but  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they 
knew  good  and  evil,  just  as  the  serpent  had  predicted. 
The  serpent,  apparently,  spoke  more  truly  than  the 
Lord  God.  No  wonder  the  narrative  affirms  the  ser- 
pent to  have  been  more  subtle  than  an}^  beast  of  the 
field  which  the  Lord  God  had  made.  I  suspect  the 
serpent  himself  honestly  believed  what  he  was  saying. 
He  knew  a  great  deal ;  but  he  did  not  know  every 
thing.  Adam  and  Eve  seem  to  have  been  like  two 
children, — frank,  innocent,  ignorant,  unsuspicious, 
fearless.  The  serpent  was  far  superior  to  them  in 
intelligence  and  experience  ;  but,  when  he  undertook 
to  measure  himself  against  the  Almighty,  he  sank  into 


44  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

abject  insignificance.  It  looks  as  if  he  knew  what 
death  was,  and  he  knew  what  was  the  tree  of  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil ;  and  he  knew  what  were 
its  apparent,  superficial,  immediate  consequences. 
But  its  deeper,  more  remote,  most  vital  consequences, 
he  did  not  know.  He  evidently  thought  the  Lord  God 
was  jealous  of  his  prerogatives  ;  that  he  did  not  wish 
Adam  and  Eve  to  become  like  himself  in  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil,  and  so  was  frightening  them  off  with 
a  warning  of  consequences  which  would  never  follow. 
But  the  serpent  meant  mischief.  Out  of  pure  malice, 
he  meant  to  get  Adam  and  Eve  into  trouble ;  or 
perhaps,  in  revenge  or  hatred  of  the  Lord  God,  he 
would  set  Adam  and  Eve  in  a  more  godlike  place  than 
their  Maker  intended.  The  only  death  which  his  sen- 
sual mind  comprehended,  he  knew  was  not  a  natural 
result  of  eating  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil.  The  result  which  would  follow  —  and  the 
only  result  of  which  he  was  aware  —  was  a  perception 
hitherto  to  them  unknown,  and  a  perception  which  the 
Lord  God  had  not  intended  them  to  have,  and  which, 
the  serpent  thought,  would  thwart  the  divine  plans, 
and  chagrin  the  Lord  God.  He  himself  turned  out  to 
be  the  one  who  was  thwarted  and  baffled  and  cha- 
grined ;  yet  he  had  laid  his  plans  well.  His  failure 
was  because  he  only  saw  things  on  the  surface,  and 
could  not  pursue  them  into  the  depths.     If  there  had 


ADAM.  45 

not  been  to  death  a  deeper  meaning  than  he  knew  any 
thing  about,  if  there  had  not  been  in  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  a  higher  life  than  he  could  divine,  he 
would  have  been  right.  To  the  short-sighted  eyes  of 
wickedness,  the  far-off  truth  seems  a  present  falsehood. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  the  narra- 
tive, one  that  has  received  far  less  prominence  than  its 
character  merits,  and  one  that  seems  full  of  signifi- 
cance, if  we  could  but  find  the  key  to  unlock  it,  is  the 
assertion  of  the  Lord  God,  "  Behold,  the  man  is  become 
as  one  of  us,  to  know  good  and^evil :  and  now,  lest  he 
put  forth  his  hand,  and  take,  also,  of  the  tree  of  life, 
and  eat,  and  live  forever  ;  therefore  the  Lord  God  sent 
him  forth  from  the  garden  of  Eden,  to  till  the  ground 
from  whence  he  was  taken." 

That  was  precisely  what  the  serpent  said.  What 
the  serpent  said  would  happen,  the  Lord  God  declared 
had  happened.  But  what  was  this  wondrous  change  ? 
And  why  should  the  Lord  God  be  angr}-  about  it,  or 
have  forbidden  it  in  the  first  place  ?  It  would  seem  as 
if  the  change  was  a  very  elevating  and  a  very  desira- 
ble one,  —  a  change  from  a  low  to  a  higher  state  of 
being.  This  man  was  become  more,  like  God.  But 
he  was  made,  at  first,  in  the  image  of  God :  therefore, 
we  should  say,  the  more  he  became  like  God  the  better. 
Why  should  the  Lord  God  object  to  any  act  which 
could  make  man  more  like  himself?     And  what  was 


46  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

this  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  of  which  man  had 
suddenly  become  possessed  ?  He  knew  good  before ; 
for  he  had  felt  it  all  through  his  happy  life.  It  can 
hardly  mean  that  he  was  to  know  evil  in  the  sense  of 
doing  or  suffering  evil ;  for  he  was  to  know  it  as  the 
Lord  God  knows  it,  who  is  incapable  of  either.  And 
what  was  that  tree  of  life  which  once  brought  immor- 
tality within  human  grasp  ?  The  tree  had  been  in  the 
garden  from  the  beginning  ;  and  it  does  not  seem  that 
Adam  and  Eve  were  forbidden  to  eat  of  it.  It  is, 
indeed,  mentioned  as  the  tree  which  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  garden  ;  and  the  woman  declared  that  it  was  the 
fruit  of  the  tree  which  was  in  the  midst  of  the  garden, 
of  which  God  had  said,  "  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither 
shall  ye  touch  it,  lest  ye  die."  But,  in  the  direct  com- 
mand of  God  himself,  nothing  is  said  of  the  tree  of 
life.  The  prohibition  applies  only  to  the  tree  of  knowl- 
edge of  good  and  evil.  Was  it,  then,  that  the}^  had 
eaten  of  the  tree  of  life,  but  that  its  effects  were  but 
temporal ;  that  immortality  could  come  only  from 
continuous  partaking  of  its  mystic  fruit ;  that  the  long 
lives  of  Adam  and  Seth  and  Methuselah  resulted 
from  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  which  Adam  had  eaten 
in  the  garden,  —  a  fruit  whose  lingering  virtue  length- 
ened out  even  the  days  of  Abraham  and  Joseph,  but 
dwindled,  and  presently  disappeared,  till  the  human 
organization   had  nothing  to  depend  on  but  its  own 


ADAM.  47 

unaided  force,  and  finds  now  its  limit  at  threescore 
years  and  ten?  It  would  seem,  then,  that  man  was 
not  originally  and  inherently  immortal.  He  was  made 
liable  to  death,  but  susceptible  of  life.  He  would 
naturally  die  ;  but,  by  the  use  of  certain  means,  he  had 
a  frame  that  could  live  forever.  If  he  had  not  par- 
taken of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  he 
might  still  have  fed  on  the  tree  of  life,  and  have  lived 
forever ;  but  he  would  have  lived  in  that  lower  estate 
in  which  he  was  created.  He  would  never  have  been 
like  God,  knowing  good  and  evil.  Here  is  where  the 
reverend  assembly  of  divines  at  Westminster  must  have 
been  plumply  and  squarely  wrong.  They  were  wise 
above  what  is  written.  They  were  not  content  with 
the  simple  Scripture  statement,  that  God  made  man 
"in  our  image,  after  our  likeness."  They  gave  no 
heed  to  the  subsequent  modifications,  which  showed 
how  far  the  statue  varied  from  its  model.  They  say, 
"  God  created  man  after  his  own  image,  in  knowledge, 
righteousness,  and  holiness."  The  writer  of  Genesis 
docs  not  say  one  word  about  God's  having  created 
man  like  himself  in  knowledge,  righteousness,  or  holi- 
ness. The  only  thing  he  says  about  it  is,  that,  in  one 
whole  department  of  knowledge,  man  was  created 
unlike  God  ;  and  the  only  way  he  got  in  was  by  rushing 
in,  in  spite  of  God.  His  very  fall  consisted  in  leaving 
the  estate  of  ignorance  in  which  he  had  been  created, 


48  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and  trespassing  upon  an  estate  of  knowledge  in  which 
he  had  not  been  created.  But  this  estate  of  knowl- 
edge was  one  in  which  the  Lord  God  dwelt ;  and  it 
could  not,  therefore,  have  been  of  itself  guilty  or  un- 
desirable. Adam's  fault  was,  not  in  being  in  it,  but  in 
going  in  when  he  was  commanded  to  stay  out.  Yet, 
thrusting  himself  forward  all  unbidden,  he  did  not, 
thereby,  wholly  forfeit  all  the  advantages  of  the  estate. 
The  fruit  of  the  tree  was  potent.  His  eyes  were 
opened,  and  he  did  know  good  and  evil,  and  he  did 
become  as  God.  We  have  the  lowest  authority  in  the 
universe  foretelling  that  this  is  what  would  happen, 
and  the  highest  authority  in  the  universe  asserting  that 
this  is  what  did  happen.  The  serpent  knew  a  great 
deal  more  about  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil  than  we  know ;  but  there  was  so  much  that  he  did 
not  know,  that  his  knowledge  was  not  of  the  smallest 
account.  No  created  being  seems  to  have  fathomed 
the  secret  of  the  Almighty. 

It  does  not  seem  certain,  when  we  look  at  it  care- 
fully, that  God  was  even  angry  with  Adam  and  Eve 
for  thus  clothing  themselves  with  the  attributes  of  the 
Most  High.  Their  banishment  from  the  garden  is 
alleged  to  be,  not  by  way  of  penalty,  but  of  precaution. 
They  were  expelled,  not  for  an}^  thing  they  had  done, 
but  for  something  which  it  was  feared  they  would  do. 
"And  now,  lest  he  put  forth  his  hand,  and  take  of 


ADAM.  49 

the  tree  of  life,  and  eat,  and  live  forever:  therefore, 
the  Lord  God  sent  him  forth  from  the  garden  of 
Eden.',  Even  the  divine  unwillingness  that  man, 
after  his  disobedience  should  eat  of  the  tree  of  life, 
and  live  forever,  may  have  been  divine  compassion, 
and  not  displeasure.  An  immortality  that  would  have 
been  forever  fresh  and  fair  and  sweet  in  the  garden 
of  Eden  might  be  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne  out- 
side. It  is  not  the  least  sola.ce  of  a  life  whose  sorrows 
are  greatly  multiplied,  and  whose  toils  are  often  exces- 
sive, that  its  troubles  are  limited.  One  man  of  genius 
represents  death  as  the  poor  man's  dearest  friend,  the 
kindest  and  the  best.  '  Another  pictures  to  himself 
the  consternation  that  would  ensue  in  the  world,  if 
death  were  suddenly  abolished.  The  woes  entailed 
upon  the  human  race  by  that  mysterious  and  awful 
comprehension  of  good  and  evil  are  lifted  and  light- 
ened by  the  certain  knowledge  that  the  time  is  short, 
or,  if  not  by  the  knowledge,  certainly  by  the  fact. 
Sin  cannot  grow  hoary ;  for  the  sinner  returns  to  the 
dust ;  and  out  of  the  dust  comes  each  living  soul  with 
something  of  primal  innocence  about  it.  Suffering 
does  not  on  earth  annihilate  the  power  to  enjoy ;  for 
aching  brow  and  throbbing  pulse  find  peace  and  rest  in 
the  ever- welcoming  grave. 

It  may  be  noticed,   also,  that  a  very  different  tone 
is  assumed  toward  Adam  and  Eve  from  that  which  is 
5 


50  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 


assumed  toward  the  serpent.  To  the  latter  the  Lord 
God  saj^s,  "  Thou  art  cursed."  To  Adam  he  sa}Ts, 
"  Cursed  is  the  ground  for  thy  sake."  When  Cain 
afterwards  killed  his  brother,  the  Lord  said  unto  him, 
"  Now  art  thou  cursed.  Lamech  observed  the  dis- 
tinction, and  knows  no  curse  upon  man,  but  comforts 
himself  concerning  our  work  and  toil  of  our  hands, 
because  of  the  ground  which  the  Lord  hath  cursed. 

It  was  the  ground,  and  not  the  man,  who  was  cursed. 
Najr,  the  ground  was  cursed  for  the  man's  sake.  Is 
not  the  phrase,  "  For  my  sake,"  oftener  a  friendly 
than  an  unfriendly  phrase  ?  Is  not  the  necessity  of 
industry  everywhere  and  always  recognized  as  the 
almost  indispensable  condition  of  excellence  ?  Is  not 
idleness  denounced,  and  justly  denounced,  as  the  fruit- 
ful mother,  and  the  untiring  foster-mother,  of  vice? 
And  seeing  that  man  had  presumptively,  rashly,  but 
realty,  drawn  upon  himself  the  immeasurable  responsi- 
bility of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  did  not  God, 
in  love  and  kindness,  curse  the  ground  for  his  sake, 
render  it  necessary  that  man  should  toil,  and  by  his 
toil  be  disciplined  and  trained  into  a  fitness  for  the 
station  into  which  he  had  thrust  himself,  all  ignorant, 
untrained,  unfit?  That  absolute  ease  and  luxury  in 
which  Adam  lived  before  he  had  any  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  did  not  hurt  him.  After  that  godlike 
knowledge  came  to  him,  it  would  have  been  fatal.     A 


ADAM.  51 

baby  plays  with  his  toes  and  his  toys  through  all  his 
waking  hours ;  but,  when  he  becomes  a  man,  he  puts 
awa}'  childish  things. 

Nor  does  it  appear  afterwards  that  God  was  angry 
with  Adam,  or  alienated  from  him,  or  that  Adam  and 
his  family  and  friends  and  descendants  fell  under 
God's  wrath  and  curse.  And  when  the  reverend 
assembly  of  divines  at  Westminster  declare  that  "  all 
mankind,  by  the  fall,  lost  communion  with  God,  are 
under  his  wrath  and  curse,  and  so  made  liable  to  the 
miseries  in  this  life,  to  death  itself,  and  to  the  pains  of 
hell  forever,"  they  must  go  far  for  authority.  How 
they  could  make  such  a  statement  with  the  Book  of 
Genesis  before  their  eyes  is  incomprehensible. 

For,  immediately  after  the  fall,  before  Adam  and 
Eve  were  sent  out  of  the  garden,  the  Lord  God  made 
coats  of  skin,  and  clothed  them.  He  took  pity  upon 
their  shame  ;  he  was  touched  by  their  simple,  awkward, 
clums}^  efforts  to  clothe  themselves  ;  he  did  not  wait 
for  them  to  learn  by  cold  and  fatigue  the  insufficiency 
and  fragility  of  the  poor,  perishable  garments  they  had 
stuck  together :  but  he  put  them  himself  on  the  right 
track.  He  made  for  them  himself  strong  and  decorous 
coats,  clothes  that  would  stand  the  rain  and  storm  and 
toil  that  awaited  them  outside  of  Eden,  garments  that 
could  serve  them  till  their  progress  in  art  and  skill 
should  produce  better.     Does  this  look  as  if  they  were 


52  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

under  God's  wrath  and  curse?  What  could  he  have 
done  different,  if  they  had  been  under  his  pity  and 
care  and  love  ? 

When  Eve's  first  baby  was  born,  she  cried  in  rapture, 
"  I  have  gotten  a  man  from  the  Lord."  That  is  hardly 
the  cry  of  a  woman  whose  whole  nature  was  corrupt, 
and  who  was  cut  off  from  communion  with  God.  It 
seems,  rather,  as  if  Eve  were  still  living  close  to  the 
Lord  God,  and  attributed  this  new,  strange  blessing  at 
once  to  him. 

"  And  the  Lord  had  respect  unto  Abel."  And  the 
Lord  talked  with  Cain.  "  And  Enoch  walked  with 
God."  "  And  Noah  was  a  just  man,  and  perfect  in  his 
generations  ;  and  Noah  walked  with  God."  And  God 
talked  with  Noah,  and  "  blessed  Noah  and  his  sons." 
And  all  through  the  book  comes  a  long  line  of  men 
whom  God  talked  with,  and  bore  with,  and  labored 
with,  and  taught  and  directed,  and  blessed  and  com- 
forted. And  the  reverend  assembly  of  divines  at  West- 
minster, with  this  long  record  of  love  and  patience  in 
their  hands,  could  put  their  heads  together,  and  declare 
that  all  mankind,  by  the  fall,  lost  communion  with  God, 
and  are  under  his  wrath  and  curse.  Worse  than  that, 
if  any  thing  can  be  worse,  in  our  own  National  Council 
that  met  in  Boston,  there  was  not  found  a  man  to  vin- 
dicate the  wa}Ts  of  God  to  man  ;  but  "  all  we,  like  sheep, 
went  astray"   after  the  Westminster  divines,  and  de- 


ADAM.  53 

dared  our  adherence  for  substance  of  doctrine  to  the 
faith  and  order  which  the  synods  of  1G48  and  1680  set 
forth  or  re-affirmed. 

As  between  the  theological  assertions  of  the  West- 
minster Assembly  of  Divines,  and  those  of  any  other 
body  of  divinity,  it  is  doubtless  proper  to  go  with  the 
"Westminster  Assembly  ;  but  where  the  issue  is  between 
the  Westminster  Assembly  on  one  side,  and  Moses 
and  the  prophets  on  the  other,  I  should  go  decidedly 
with  Moses.  Much  as  we  esteem  the  Catechism,  we 
esteem  the  Pentateuch  more.  The  Book  of  Genesis, 
whether  we  accept  it  as  authority  or  not,  is  all  the 
authority  we  have  concerning  the  origin  of  the  human 
race.  That  book  tells  us  that  continually,  after  the 
fall  as  well  as  before  the  fall,  God  did  lovingly  and 
patiently  and  unwea^ingly  talk  with  man,  lead  him 
along  pleasant  paths,  and  over  hard  places,  rebuke  and 
punish  him  when  he  was  wicked,  praise  and  reward 
him  when  he  was  even  a  little  good,  encourage  him 
when  he  was  weary,  strengthen  him  when  he  was  feeble, 
and  in  all  ways  and  places  show  himself  a  father  and  a 
friend ;  so  that  after  all  these  years,  in  these  remote 
corners  of  the  earth,  one  cannot  read  the  story  without 
an  amazement,  almost  an  incredulity  of  gratitude ; 
without  exclaiming,  "  What  is  man,  that  thou  shouldst 
be  so  mindful  of  him? " 

When  any  one  says,  on  the  other  hand,  that,  after 

4* 


54  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

the  fall,  man  lost  communion  with  God,  and  fell 
under  his  wrath  and  curse,  I  ask,  with  all  respect,  for 
his  authority.  I  ask,  also,  if  there  is  an}r  such  author- 
ity, why  it  was  not  incorporated  into  the  book,  —  the 
only  book  that  professes  to  give  a  connected  and  com- 
plete account  of  the  creation? 

A  recent  book  discusses  the  story  of  Adam  and  Eve 
from  an  entirety  novel  point  of  sight.  It  is  called 
"The  Rise  and  the  Fall ;  or,  The  Origin  of  Moral  Evil.'* 
Its  explanation  is  one  that  I  should  never  have  thought 
of;  yet,  once  presented,  it  is  a  theory  of  which  one  does 
not  easily  become  disembarrassed.  The  book  is  written 
in  a  reverent  and  rational  spirit.  It  professes  as  close 
an  adherence  to  the  text  of  Scripture  as  to  the  rules 
of  right  reasoning ;  and  the  magnitude  of  the  problem 
to  be  solved,  the  unsatisfactoriness  of  all  attempts 
hitherto  at  its  solution,  and  the  earnestness  and  intelli- 
gence which  this  writer  brings  to  the  discussion,  cer- 
tainty merit  for  it  a  fair  hearing,  and  not  a  summary 
dismission. 

His  theory  is,  that  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil  was  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  right  and 
wrong  ;  that  Adam  and  Eve  were  not  originalty  created 
with  such  knowledge.  Their  mental  perceptions,  their 
physical  powers,  were  in  full  play  ;  but  the  moral  faculty 
was  in  abeyance,  corresponding  to  its  later  appear- 
ance in  every  subsequent  individual  of  the  human  race. 


ADAM.  55 

The  probability  is,  that  they  were  intended  to  be 
endowed  at  some  future  time  —  and  after  whatever 
necessary  training,  under  whatever  favorable  circum- 
stances—  with  this  moral  faculty  ;  but,  at  the  time  of 
their  creation,  thej^  were  not  so  endowed.  By  their 
disobedience,  which  could  not  be  guilt}r  (thej^  not  being 
moral  creatures) ,  but  which  was  rash  and  imprudent, 
they  became  prematurely  possessed  of  the  moral  faculty, 
which,  in  its  and  their  weakness,  became  often  and 
speedily  prostituted  to  immorality.  Nevertheless,  the 
possession  of  the  moral  faculty  was  in  itself  a  rise,  and 
not  a  fall.  To  come  into  such  an  estate,  even  pre- 
sumptuously and  forbidden,  was  to  rise  into  a  higher 
order  of  being.  The  fall  was  after  this  rise,  when  the 
new  moral  faculty  chose  tergiversation  rather  than 
frankness,  and  falsehood  rather  than  truth. 

This  is  but  a  hint  of  the  gist  of  a  theory  which  is 
weak,  perhaps,  and  far-fetched  on  the  face  of  it,  and 
3Tet,  in  body  and  soul,  is  not  without  strength.  And 
as  the  answer  to  the  great  problem  is  an  unknown 
quantity,  and  must  be  represented  by  some  x,  y,  or  z 
in  order  to  be  worked  out,  the  necessarily  hypothetic 
theory  which  harmonizes  the  greatest  number  of  facts 
must,  it  would  appear,  be  the  best  one  to  begin  on. 
This  may  not  be  such  an  one  ;  but  we  have  ciphered, 
patiently  or  impatiently,  on  the  old  hypotheses  with 
distinguished  lack  of  success  ;  and  it  can  surely  do  no 


56  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

harm  to  take  a  fresh  start  on  fresh  ground.  This 
theory  may  develop  difficulties  of  its  own  ;  but  many  of 
those  which  perplex  the  old  dispensation  disappear 
under  its  light.  Especially  falls  to  the  ground  that 
monstrous  assumption,  that  all  mankind,  descending 
from  Adam  by  ordinary  generation,  sinned  in  him,  and 
fell  with  him  in  his  first  transgression ;  that  all  man- 
kind, by  the  fall  of  one  man,  for  whom  they  were  in  no 
wise  responsible,  and  from  wThom  they  involuntarily 
descended,  lost  communion  with  God,  and  are  under 
his  wrath  and  curse.  The  law  of  the  transmission  of 
traits,  faculties,  qualities,  is  indisputable,  though  little 
understood.  Adam  having,  by  his  own  act,  become  a 
moral  being,  all  his  descendants  became,  perforce,  moral 
beings.  But  by  that  act  he  did  not  sin.  When  he 
performed  the  act,  he  was  not  a  moral  being.  His  first 
act  after  that  change  may  or  may  not  have  been  sinful ; 
but  the  act  itself  was  not  sinful.  And  each  child  born 
is  born  sinless  —  sinless,  but  with  tendencies  to  sin  or 
to  purit}^,  according  as  its  ancestors  have  kept  them- 
selves pure,  or  have  lapsed  into  sin  ;  have  consecrated 
him  to  God,  or  left  him  to  be  the  pre}T  of  the  serpent. 
We  all  recognize  the  fact  that  virtue  produces  virtue, 
and  vice  has  a  tendency  to  spring  from  vice.  This 
theory  shows  it  reasonable  that  moral  strength  should 
be,  as  our  experience  finds  it,  cumulative,  and  gives  us 
encouragement  to  work  for  the  exaltation  of  the  race. 


ADAM.  57 

By  this  theory  we  are  not  dismayed  to  find  ourselves, 
at  the  outstart,  with  a  perfect  and  a  perfectly-equipped 
man,  tripping  at  the  first  step  into  the  gulf  of  wreck 
and  ruin.  We  find  ourselves,  on  the  contrary,  enter- 
ing the  lists  with  a  progenitor  far  less  perfectly 
equipped  than  we,  and  whose  mistake  and  whose  sub- 
sequent sins,  even  if  sins  there  were,  were,  in  a  certain 
sense,  entirely  natural.  We  see  why  the  Lord  God 
should  pronounce  a  curse  on  the  serpent  who  had 
intermeddled  so  disastrously,  who  had  tempted  the 
ignorant,  innocent  man  to  thrust  himself  into  a  sphere 
for  which  he  was  unfit,  and  which  could  not  fail  to 
bring  him  dismay  and  woe,  instead  of  waiting  the 
slow,  sweet  processes,  the  pleasant  paths,  by  which  the 
Lord  God  would  have  prepared  him,  and  have  led  him 
without  hurt  into  the  realm  of  the  divine  —  but.  should 
have  pronounced  no  curse  upon  the  man  and  woman  so 
beguiled.  We  do  by  no  means  lose  sight  of  the  horror 
of  great  darkness  which  envelops  the  origin  of  evil ; 
but  what  we  do  see  is  clear  and  pure,  and  casts  no 
shadow  on  the  great  white  throne.  It  doth  not  yet 
appear,  perhaps  it  never  in  this  world  will  appear,  that 
he  hath  put  all  enemies  under  his  feet.  But  certainly, 
in  this  guise,  he  does  not  figure  as  a  God  of  wrath  and 
cursing,  shutting  himself  away  from  the  poor,  feeble, 
falling  man  whom  he  has  just  made,  but  a  God  of 
infinite    love    and    condescension  and    consideration, 


58  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

standing  by  his  puny  man  "through  evil  report  and 
through  good  report,"  punishing  him  only  when  he  must, 
and  as  little  as  he  can,  bending  low  to  his  infirmities, 
promising  all  sorts  of  earthly  good  to  him  while  his 
soul  is  not  elevated  enough  to  value  higher  things,  and 
gradually,  and  with  godlike  pains  and  patience,  lift- 
ing him  into  a  more  spiritual  life. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  framers  of  any 
systems  of  theology  and  philosophy  have  acted  from 
wrong  or  unworthy  motives.  Doubtless  they  have 
acted  from  the  highest  and  the  best.  Our  fathers  did 
not  mean  to  make  a  sanguinary,  arbitrary,  cruel  God, 
being  themselves  cruel  and  arrogant  men.  They 
acted,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  sublime  and  self-sacrifi- 
cing principle,  let  God  be  true,  and  every  man  a  liar. 
There  is  something  pathetic,  heroic,  in  their  resolution 
to  justify  God,  even  at  the  expense  of  every  instinct  of 
humanity.  And  unto  them  and  their  offering,  doubt- 
less, God  had  respect.  But  it  cannot  be  that  God 
wishes  us  to  sacrifice  our  common  sense  in  his  behalf, 
though  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will  not  wholly  condemn 
us  if  we  do.  It  must  be  that  he  wishes  us  to  bring  to 
the  study  of  himself  the  same  modes  of  thought  and 
reason  that  we  use  in  reference  to  other  things ;  for 
with  these  minds  has  he  himself  endowed  us.  If  there 
is  something  which  we  do  not  understand,  and  cannot 
reconcile,  it  is  better  to  let  it  go  uncomprehended  and 


ADAM.  59 

inconsistent  than  to  warp  every  rale  of  reason  in  the 
effort  to  explain  and  combine.  It  is  not  indispensable, 
though  it  is  lawful,  for  finite  human  beings  to  attempt 
to  frame  perfect  theological  and  philosophical  systems  ; 
but  it  is  indispensable  that  they  should  not  overturn 
reason  and  instinct  and  consciousness  in  so  doing. 

It  seems,  sometimes,  to  be  thought,  that,  unless  we 
sinned  in  Adam,  we  cannot  be  saved  in  Christ.  But,  if 
we  are  not  saved  in  Christ  any  more  palpably  and  con- 
sciously than  we  sinned  in  Adam,  we  might  as  well  be 
lost. 

If  we  are  to  take  Paul  verbally,  and  not  argumen- 
tatively;  if  we  are  to  understand  his  eager,  rapid 
discourse  as  a  presentation  of  historical  facts  contro- 
verting the  original  account  of  creation,  and  not  as 
a  literary  and  perfectly  just  illustration  to  elucidate  the 
thought  that  glowed  within  him,  without  reference  to 
scientific  or  historical  statement, — then  we  must  so  take 
it  in  all  its  parts,  and  to  the  last  degree.  To  me  there 
is  no  clashing  between  Paul's  statements  and  the  ab- 
solution of  every  man  from  guilt  in  Adam's  act.  We 
might,  indeed,  say  that  not  only  sin,  but  sinners,  and 
every  thing  else,  entered  into  the  world  by  one  man. 
But  Paul  is  not  concerned  with  any  naturalistic  theory. 
He  is  striving  to  set  forth  the  unsearchable  riches  of 
Christ,  to  show  that  salvation  is  as  broad  as  sin,  as 
wide  as  death ;  that  man  cannot  go  outside  the  love  of 


60  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Christ ;  that  just  as  truly  as  all  men  die  by  reason  of 
their  belonging  to  a  mortal  race,  just  so  surely  may 
they  live  by  reason  of  the  life  and  immortality  brought 
to  light  in  the  gospel  of  Christ.  If  he  does  not  mean 
this  ;  if  he  means  that  literally  all  men  sinned  and  died 
in  Adam,  without  consciousness,  or  will,  of  their 
own, — then  we  must  continue  the  parallel,  and  main- 
tain that  they  live  in  Christ  without  any  voluntary 
acceptance  of  him,  or  belief  in  him,  or  following  after 
him. 


THE  "BLUE  BLOOD"  OF  CANAAN. 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD "   OF  CANAAN. 

|T  seems  sometimes  as  if  God  did  not  care  so 
much  about  honor  and  truth  and  righteous- 
ness as  the  newspapers  do.  We  are  con- 
vulsed at  some  flagrant  misdemeanor ;  but  the  sacred 
historians  take  it  as  coolly  as  possible.  The  Bible  is 
full  of  sound  moral  precepts,  and  bad  practical  exam- 
ples. You  cannot  teach  your  Sunday-school  class  the 
lesson  of  Jacob's  ladder,  without  striking  snags  in  all 
directions.  What  a  family  it  was,  to  begin  with !  —  a 
doting,  partial  father,  a  deceitful,  partial  mother,  and 
two  spoiled  children.  Isaac  loved  Esau  —  because  he 
did  eat  of  his  venison.  But  Rebekah  loved  Jacob. 
Whether  she  had  an  equally  creditable  reason  for  her 
preference,  we  are  not  told.  Esau  seems  to  have  been 
a  rash,  headlong  boy ;  quick-tempered,  but  generous 
and  forgiving  ;  relinquishing  his  birthright  in  a  moment 
of  passionate  impatience,  but  capable  of  lifelong 
regret ;  bitterly  resentful  of  his  defrauded  blessing, 
yet  gentle  and  magnanimous ;  a  vigorous,  manly,  and 
somewhat  savage  character.     No  wonder  his  father 

63 


64         SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

loved  him.  But  the  mother's  pet  was  Jaeob,  —  a 
quiet  bo}r,  content  to  stay  at  home,  while  Esau  was 
gathering  strength  and  skill  from  the  chase ;  a  docile, 
stupid  boy,  without  wit  enough  to  plan  deceit,  or  will 
enough  to  prevent  it,  and  only  just  enough  of  both 
to  carry  it  out.  It  was  Rebekah  who  devised  fraud 
upon  the  blind  old  father,  and  then  another  fraud  to 
save  Jacob  from  the  richly-merited  consequences  ;  for 
even  the  man  seems  tied  as  closely  to  his  mother's 
apron-strings  as  the  child  had  been.  But  Esau,  too, 
with  all  his  breezy,  outdoor  life,  was  not  indocile. 
He  humored  his  father's  ruling  passion  for  venison 
with  as  much  alacrity  as  Jacob  humored  their  mother's 
for  deception.  He  went  out  for  his  prey  as  readily  as 
Jacob  went  in  for  his.  When  he  saw  that  his  wives 
did  not  please  his  father,  he  cheerfully  took  more 
wives.  Since  the  daughters  of  Canaan  did  not  suit, 
what  more  natural  than  to  try  the  daughters  of  Ish- 
mael?  When  Jacob  came  back  from  Padan-Aram, 
fearing  the  wrath  of  Esau,  and  deprecating  it  with 
craft}T  forethought,  with  gifts  and  servile  words,  hale 
and  hearty  Esau  seems  quite  to  have  forgotten  their 
little  tiff,  and  to  have  been  entirely  at  a  loss  to  know 
what  all  this  ado  was  for.  In  short,  and  speaking 
after  the  manner  of  men,  we  should  say  that  Esau  was 
far  the  more  agreeable,  interesting,  and  gifted  person ; 
and  that  Jacob  —  with  his  sty  ways,  and  his  mean- 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  65 

spirited  willingness  to  work  seven  years  longer  for  the 
man  who  had  cheated  him  out  of  one  wife  and  into 
another,  instead  of  rising  up  in  virile  wrath  and  love, 
and  taking  the  one  he  wanted  out  of  hand,  will  you 
nill  you,  as  Esau  would  have  done — was  not  a  man  to 
be  held  in  esteem  of  gods,  or  men,  or  women. 

Yet  it  was  Jacob,  and  not  Esau,  that  God  chose  for 
the  transmission  of  his  word.  Najr,  more,  it  was  when 
Jacob  was  fleeing  from  the  just  and  natural  wrath  of 
Esau,  it  was  when  Jacob  had  just  concluded  a  most 
barefaced,  unprovoked,  and  successful  scheme  of  perfi- 
dy against  his  own  brother,  when  he  had  just  made 
that  brother's  kindness,  and  their  father's  blindness,  an 
opportunity  for  high-handed  cheating,  that  the  Lord 
met  him  and  said  —  what?  u  The  blessing  that  thou 
didst  obtain  by  sacrilege  shall  be  turned  into  curses : 
instead  of  lording  it  over  the  brother  whom  thou  hast 
cruelly  and  repeatedly  wronged,  thou  shalt  be  his  ser- 
vant of  servants  :  what  thou  hast  gained  by  fraud 
thou  shalt  lose  by  force,  that  men  may  know  that  I  am 
a  God  hating  iniquity,  and  that  I  will  by  no  means 
clear  the  guilty"?  Not  at  all.  Nor  did  God  even 
say,  as  Isaac  did,  with  sore  regret,  "I  have  blessed 
him,  yea,  and  he  shall  be  blessed,  though  he  came  with 
subtilty,"  recognizing  the  irrevocable  word  while 
bitterly  lamenting  the  false  pretences  upon  which  it 
was  obtained ;  for  Isaac,  at  least,  never  held  that  fraud 

6* 


66  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

vitiated  election.  It  was  by  treachery  of  the  most 
outrageous  kind,  —  treachery  to  an  innocent  brother 
absent  on  an  errand  of  filial  love,  —  treachery  to  the 
blindness  of  a  dying  father, —  treachery  in  the  name 
of  the  Most  High  God.  ' '  How  is  it  that  thou  hast 
found  it  so  quickly,  my  son?" — "Because  the  Lord 
thy  God  brought  it  to  me,"  replies  he,  whom  a  news- 
paper, if  it  were  reporting  the  case,  might  call  the 
Irypocritical  villain.  By  such  treachery  had  Jacob 
gained  the  blessing  ;  and  for  all  Esau's  great  and  ex- 
ceeding bitter  cry,  —  for  all  his  pathetic  entreaty, 
"Hast  thou  but  one  blessing,  my  father?  Bless  me, 
even  me  also,  O  nry  father!" — Isaac  could  not  take 
back  the  promised  supremacy. 

But  God  did  more  than  this.  He  met  this  false, 
cruel,  heartless  man  on  his  way  to  Padan-Aram,  with 
his  sins  still  hot  within  his  heart ;  and,  instead  of 
rebuking,  he  repeats  and  confirms  and  intensifies  the 
plundered  blessing.  Without  even  an  implied  cen- 
sure, without  so  much  as  a  reference  to  his  past,  he 
assures  the  guilty  man,  "The  land  whereon  thou liest, 
to  thee  will  I  give  it,  and  to  thy  seed.  .  .  .  And  be- 
hold I  am  with  thee,  and  will  keep  thee,  in  all  places 
...  for  I  will  not  leave  thee  until  I  have  done  that 
which  I  have  spoken  to  thee  of." 

Surely  it  would  have  seemed  more  impartial  and 
fatherly  in  the  Great  Father  to  appear  in  a  vision  to 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  67 

poor,  cheated  Esau,  to  comfort  him.  Was  it  quite  fair 
that  Esau  should  suffer  all  his  life,  through  all  his  gen- 
erations, for  one  sudden  moment  of  self-indulgence, 
and  that  Jacob  should  not  suffer  at  all,  but  be  cherished 
and  encouraged  for  a  cold-blooded  outrage  of  every  hon- 
orable instinct  and  every  filial  and  fraternal  obligation  ? 
Is  yielding  to  a  quick  temptation  worse  than  partner- 
ship in  deliberate  vice?  At  any  rate,  Jacob's  treason 
seems  not  to  have  alienated  God  from  his  cause.  And 
in  practical,  actual  life,  it  is  equally  true  that  momen- 
tary sins  are  often  more  severely  punished  than  life- 
long sins.  There  are  sins  which  in  themselves  are 
no  sins,  which  are  sinful  only  by  reason  of  circum- 
stances, which  have  their  root  in  innocence,  and 
spring  side  by  side  with  every  virtue,  grace,  and  charm, 
yet  in  one  moment  overspread  and  shadow  life. 
And  across  the  way  a  fatal  selfishness  blights  every 
fair  thing  it  touches,  and  scatters  disappointment  and 
misery  on  all  around ;  yet  the  selfish  man  lives  with 
untarnished  respectability,  and  dies  at  last  in  the  odor 
of  sanctity.  Esau's  one  lapse  from  virtue  forfeited 
his  birthright  forever;  and  Jacob's  smooth-faced  wile 
and  saintly  guile  sealed  his  inheritance,  and  crowned 
him  with  gloiy  and  honor. 

It  has  happened  to  this  generation  to  be  disturbed 
because  persons  who  have  retired  from  public  with  a 
shadow  upon  their  fair  fame  have  been  received   at 


68  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

home  with  formal  respect  and  rejoicing.  Those  who 
believe  that  the  shadow  was  a  stain  are  indignant 
that  a  man's  fellow-townsmen  who  do  not  believe 
it  should  publicly  testify  their  unbelief,  and  should 
welcome  their  respected  friends  with  music  and  fes- 
tivity. "  What  safeguard  for  public  virtue,"  we  cry, 
"  when  public  opinion  and  sentiment  are  thus  undis- 
criminating  of  right  and  wrong?  "  But  human  judg- 
ment is  not  infallible  ;  and  it  is  to  be  set  down  to  a 
man's  credit,  if  the  community  in  which  he  lives  believe 
him  innocent,  though  all  other  men  speak  evil  of  him. 
But  here  is  a  case  which  admits  of  no  doubt.  Jacob 
had  lied  and  cheated  in  the  most  abominable,  the  most 
contemptible,  and  the  most  successful  manner.  Yet 
it  was  when  he  was  fleeing  from  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  his  unnatural  crime,  that  he  had  a  recep- 
tion which  throws  all  other  receptions  into  the  shade. 
For  the  angels  came  out  of  heaven  to  honor  him  ;  and 
the  Lord  God,  who  could  have  made  no  mistake  about 
the  nature  of  his  act,  appeared  to  him  in  the  skies, 
and  blessed  him  exceedingly.  If  he  had  been  a  hero, 
saint,  and  martyr,  he  could  not  have  been  more  dis- 
tinguished by  the  divine  condescension.  And  in  all 
the  comfort  and  re-assurance  was  mingled  no  word  of 
rebuke. 

When  the  divine  Being  deigned  to  give  a  human 
record  of  his  waj's,  he,  in  a  manner,  challenged  human 


THE  "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  69, 

criticism.  In  the  matter  of  Jacob,  he  managed  very 
differently  from  what  we  should  suppose  a  just  God 
would  do ;  and  we  naturally  cast  about  for  reasons. 
Was  it  an  occasion  where  magnanimity  was  more 
effective  than  penalty  ?  Did  the  divine  condescension 
work  remorse  in  Jacob's  heart?  Not  at  all.  He  was 
surprised,  but  not  into  repentance,  still  less  into  res- 
toration. The  prudent,  discreet  man  was  convinced 
that  his  vision  was  from  God ;  and  he  vowed  a  vow, 
but  still  with  his  eye  steadfastly  fixed  on  the  main 
chance. 

"  If — God  will  be  with  me  "  —  God  had  promised 
to  be  with  him. 

"And  —  will  keep  me  in  the  way  that  I  go  "  — 
God  had  promised  to  keep  him  in  all  places  whither 
he  should  go. 

"And  —  will  give  me  bread  to  eat" —  None  of 
your  glittering  and  sounding  generalities  for  Jacob  ! 
He  meant  to  have  the  terms  of  the  bargain  clearly 
defined.  "Keeping  thee"  is  neither  here  nor  there. 
He  was  too  wily  himself  to  believe  that  the  Lord  God 
could  be  trusted  with  verbal  discretion  or  a  liberal 
rendering  of  the  terms  of  the  contract.  "Shall  I 
have  plenty  to  eat  and  drink  and  wear  ?  ' ' 

"  And  — raiment  to  put  on?  " 

"  So  that  I  come  again  to  my  father's  house  in 
peace  ' '  —  Not  harried  and  hated  and  hunted  by  that 
great,  strong,  and  angry  Esau.  6* 


70  SERMONS   TO   THE  CLERGY. 

"  Then  shall  the  Lord  be  my  God." 

Truly  such  worship  must  be  pleasing  to  the  Maker 
of  men. 

There  is  a  sort  of  sublime  audacity  in  the  way  in 
which  the  Bible  deals  with  facts.  It  not  only  never 
palliates,  but  it  never  explains.  It  makes  the  most 
astounding  statements  without  a  particle  of  emotion. 
Its  respectable  and  virtuous  men  are  credited  with 
high-handed  villany  as  coolly  as  the  census  is  taken. 
Nations  fall  at  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  nobody 
winces.  Principles  are  enunciated,  precepts  laid 
down,  biography  and  history  written.  You  are  left  to 
work  on  them  at  your  leisure.  You  may  reconcile 
contradictions  if  you  can.  You  may  find  motives  if 
you  choose.  You  may  like  or  dislike,  accept  or  reject ; 
but  you  will  get  no  help  from  the  sacred  writer.  He 
is  absolutely  indifferent  to  your  conclusions  and  opin- 
ions, to  your  creeds  and  your  theories.  He  marches 
straight  on  through  his  narrative,  perfectly  calm  and 
composed  ;  and  you  can  take  yourself  and  your  lrypoth- 
eses  out  of  the  wa}T,  or  be  serenely  trodden  under  foot. 
He  gives  no  sign. 

Apparently  the  Creator  manages  his  world  on  a  busi- 
ness basis.  We  are  apt  to  think  of  him  as  intent  only 
on  rewarding  the  good,  and  punishing  the  bad.  Doubt- 
less, in  the  end,  goodness  will  be  upheld,  and  iniquity 
destroyed ;  but  at  present,  and  to  our  experience  and 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"   OF  CANAAN.  71 

consciousness,  it  is  not  holiness,  but  availability,  that 
seems  to  be  in  requisition.  God  chooses  men  and 
nations  for  his  service,  not  in  proportion  to  their  inno- 
cence, but  their  fitness.  Just  as,  in  time  of  war,  com- 
mands ma}r  be  awarded,  not  to  the  officer  of  blameless 
moral  character,  but  of  the  greatest  military  genius. 
Just  as,  in  time  of  peace,  men  may  be  elevated  to  high 
station,  in  spite  of  known  personal  blemishes,  because 
they  have  the  knowledge,  the  capacity,  the  experience, 
which  the  country  needs.  Their  moral  delinquency 
may  be  a  grief  of  heart  to  Isaac  and  Rebekah,  a  thorn 
in  the  side  of  Rachel ;  but  it  may  not  incapacitate 
them  for  handling  the  public  revenues,  or  caring  for 
the  public  interests,  better  than  any  other  man.  We 
say,  sometimes,  that  the  people  should  vote  only  for 
good  men  ;  but  a  good  man  in  the  wrong  place  will  do 
as  much  mischief  as  a  bad  man.  God  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  very  particular  about  employing  good 
men. 

The  divine  purpose  or  object  was  to  choose  a  nation 
to  receive  the  Christ  for  the  whole  world's  sake.  For 
this  purpose,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  Esau  —  fearless, 
adventurous,  great-hearted,  raiding  around  the  country 
sword  in  hand,  sacrificing  his  most  valued  treasures  in 
a  moment  of  impetuous  fatigue,  easily  placated,  but 
easily  inflamed  —  was  far  less  fitted  than  the  plain  and 
quiet  Jacob,  dwelling  in  tents,  clinging  to  his  mother, 


72  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

working  seven  years  for  his  wife,  and,  when  cheated 
out  of  her,  patiently  taking  another  seven-years'  pull  at 
it ;,  not,  like  Esau,  carving  out  his  fortune  with  his 
sword,  in  the  wide,  wild  desert,  but  whittling  it  out 
with  his  jack-knife,  among  his  sheep  and  goats.  It  was 
not  Esau's  unsuspecting  readiness  nor  generous  forgive- 
ness that  unfitted  him  for  the  Lord's  service,  but  his 
impulsive  temper  and  nomadic  tastes.  It  was  not 
Jacob's  duplicity  that  recommended  him  to  God,  but 
his  tenacity  of  purpose.  God  met  him  at  Bethel,  not 
to  encourage  him  in  his  wickedness,  but  to  encourage 
him  in  spite  of  his  wickedness.  Jacob  was  thoroughly 
frightened ;  and  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  be 
re-assured.  But,  in  order  that  he  should  be  the  bearer 
of  the  Messiah  to  the  world,  it  wras  not  indispensable 
that  he  should  be  brave :  it  was  only  indispensable 
that  he  should  live  and  prosper.  Jacob  was  no  better 
a  man  for  securing  his  just  wages  from  trickj^  Laban 
by  a  trick,  and  stealing  awa}'  from  him  unknown,  when 
he  had  the  power  and  the  right  to  march  off  with  flying 
colors  ;  but  that  intense  love  of  life  and  peace  and 
quietness,  and  that  ever-present  timidity  which  made 
him  always  and  instinctively  choose  the  submissive, 
peaceable,  servile  course,  rather  than  the  outspoken, 
resolute,  and  possibty  violent  one,  constituted  him  the 
fit  recipent  of  the  ark  and  the  covenant.  He  failed 
in  grit,  but  he  was  mighty  in  grip. 


THE  "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  73 

Probably  Jacob  was  of  so  mean  a  nature,  that  he 
could  not  understand  the  nature  of  the  transaction  in 
which  he  had  just  been  implicated,  nor  in  the  least 
appreciate  the  enormity  of  the  crime  which  he  had  com- 
mitted. But  a  high  moral  sense  was  not  necessary. 
There  needed  only  certain  mental  and  individual  quali- 
ties, which  Jacob  possessed ;  and  God  did  not  even 
make  the  attempt  to  indoctrinate  him  into  a  high 
spiritual  life,  or  to  inspire  him  with  high  moral  senti- 
ments, but  accepted  his  coarse,  mercenar}^  loyalty,  and 
left  it  to  time  and  circumstances  to  make  a  better  man 
of  him.  Jacob,  as  an  individual,  was  no  dearer  to 
God  than  was  Esau.  But  Jacob  as  the  founder  of  the 
nation  chosen  for  the  most  important  mission  of  the 
world  was  invaluable.  Therefore,  God  met  him,  and 
sustained  him. 

This,  also,  may  have  had  a  place  in  the  divine  econ- 
omy. Christ  came  to  save  that  which  was  lost;  to 
call,  not  "  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance." 
As  he  took  upon  himself  the  form  of  man  in  order  to 
save  men,  so  it  may  be  that  he  took  upon  himself  the 
form  of  the  lowest  and  least  of  men  to  save  the 
lowest  and  least.  Humanity  was  to  be  saved,  not  from 
its  noble,  its  generous,  its  manly  traits,  but  from  its 
vile,  mean,  underhanded  tendencies.  So  God  chose 
out  the  mean  and  sly,  and  made  himself  of  no  reputa- 
tion, but  incorporated  himself  with  them,  that  no  one 


74  SERMONS   TO  THE  CLERGY. 

henceforth  should  think  himself,  or  be  thought  by 
others,  too  mean,  too  low,  for  salvation.  Christ,  in 
rising  up  out  of  this  crafty,  cruel,  wretched  family, 
drew  all  the  crafty,  cruel,  wretched  human  family  with 
him.  God  could  have  staid  in  heaven,  and  ruled  the 
world  thence ;  but,  choosing  to  descend,  he  showed 
that  it  was  necessary  he  should  descend,  in  order,  as 
it  were,  to  get  a  better  purchase.  We  may,  thence, 
infer,  that,  the  deeper  the  descent,  the  more  sweeping 
the  salvation. 

There  remains,  of  course,  always  the  alternative  of 
denying  the  reality  of  the  revelation.  We  may  believe 
that  it  was  only  a  dream ;  that  God  did  not  appear, 
but  that  Jacob  magnified  his  own  consequence,  and 
salved  his  conscience  with  a  trumped-up  story.  This 
would  be  no  worse  than  man}'  things  which  he  is  re- 
ported to  have  done.  And,  when  he  subsequently  told 
the  story  of  his  speckled  and  ring-streaked  cattle  to 
Leah  and  Rachel,  we  cannot  help  suspecting  that  he 
drew  a  long  bow.  But,  besides  that  he  seems  to  have 
been  too  unimaginative  a  man  to  have  invented  such  a 
story ;  and  that  the  narrative  is  not  given  as  from  his 
lips,  but  from  the  pen  of  the  historian,  —  his  tale  of  the 
second  vision  rather  confirms  the  reality  of  the  first. 
He  could  not  invent  a  circumstance  so  remarkable ; 
but,  when  it  had  once  happened  to  him,  he  was  so 
childish,  and  so  given  to  deceit,  that  it  was  quite  easy 


THE   "BLUE   BLOOD"    OF   CANAAN.  75 

and  natural  to  him  to  get  up  a  dream  and  a  vision  on 
slight  provocation.  It  was  so  very  respectable  a  way 
to  disarm  criticism  upon  any  questionable  proceeding 
to  say,  "The  angel  of  God  spake  unto  me  in  a 
dream." 

Dr.  Robinson  makes  a  remarkably,  indeed,  I  might 
almost  say  a  startlingly,  interesting  statement  on  this 
subject.  In  his  travels  he  had  reached  a  slope  that 
looked  straight  down  upon  the  spot  where  Jacob  must 
have  lain,  near  the  old  city  of  Luz  ;  and  there  the  party 
halted  to  rest. 

"  I  remember  now  how  instinctively  I  found  a  stone  for  a 
pillow.  I  lay  back  with  my  hands  over  my  eyes,  but  irresisti- 
bly peering  through  them.  A  long,  beautiful  valley  lay  right 
down  before  us,  so  regular  and  smooth,  that  it  might  have  been 
furrowed  with  a  giant's  plough.  Wonderfully  green  it  was  with 
the  first  verdure  of  spring.  ■  It  stretched  away  for  full  three  or 
four  miles,  rising  rapidly  in  the  glade  all  the  time,  until  it 
faded  into  dimness  and  disappearance  on  the  summit  of  a  high 
hill.  It  appeared  to  be  a  most  fertile  land-tract,  caught 
thus  thriftily  by  some  industrious  husbandman,  who,  in  order 
further  to  guard  it  on  either  side  from  the  wash  of  the  hills, 
had  terraced  it  all  along  its  length  with  conspicuous  walls  of 
stone.  So  there  below  us  it  was  spread,  ^a  green  oblong  of 
soil,  outlined  and  plain,  between  two  lengths  of  rude  yellow 
masonry  the  entire  distance.  Across  the  slender  tongue  of 
land,  at  right  angles  to  the  rest,  the  painstaking  man  had  con- 
structed other  terraces  in  the  same  way,  —  one  in  perhaps 
every  forty  rods,  or  thereabouts.     This  was  to  catch  moisture, 


76  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and  prevent  the  wash  in  the  other  direction.  But,  if  I  make 
myself  clear  at  all  in  the  description,  it  is  evident  that  the 
appearance  was  precisely  that  of  a  gigantic  ladder,  —  one  end 
close  to  us,  distinct  at  our  feet ;  the  other  almost  touching  the 
sky.  While  I  was  recalling  the  history  in  listless  reminiscence, 
it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  this  was  Jacob's  vision. 

"I  started  up  with  an  exclamation  of  surprise  that  fairly 
aroused  my  companions.  .  .  .  All  our  eyes  were  instantly 
turned  toward  the  spot.  .  There  could  be  no  mistaking  it. 
Here  was  the  faultless  natural  image,  half  disclosed  as  it  must 
have  been  in  the  starlight  to  him,  out  of  which  Jacob's  ladder 
grew.  I  do  not  say  this  was  what  he  saw.  I  only  say  it  was 
what  we  saw.  We  laid  our  heads  back  upon  the  '  pillows,'  and 
the  illusion  was  perfect.  Away  from  us,  from  earth  to  heaven, 
that  exquisite  structure  rose  on  its  background  of  beautiful 
green." 

If  we  were  not  alarmed  by  the  cry  of  "  naturalism, " 
would  not  this  seem  to  give  tho  story  a  purely  earthly, 
though  a  beautifully  poetic  origin?  And,  again,  why 
is  "  mere  naturalism  "  such  a  bete  noir?  Is  not  God 
at  the  head  of  this  world  which  we  see,  just  as  truly  as 
he  is  the  head  of  the  unseen  world  ?  All  theological 
professors  admit  that  only  the  divine  Hand  could  keep 
the  sun  up  after  nightfall ;  but  it  seems  to  me  a  pretty 
divine  sort  of  thing  to  keep  the  sun  up  till  sundown 
every  day.  The  doctors  of  divinity  speak  as  if  it 
needs  omnipotence  to  divide  the  Red  Sea  on  a  particu- 
lar occasion ;  but  an}Tbody  could  do  it  ordinarily. 
Supernaturalism  must  be  accredited  to  Deity  ;  but  any 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  77 

tjTo  is  equal  to  mere  naturalism.  For  me,  I  confess  I 
cannot  speak  so  cavalierly  of  the  creation.  To  me, 
God  is  of  this  world  and  in  this  world,  just  as  truly  as 
he  is  above  this  world.  It  is  very  interesting  to  know 
how  he  appeared  to  Jacob ;  but  it  is  still  more  inter- 
esting to  know  that  he  is  not  far  from  every  one  of  us. 
Suppose  we  reject  every  supernatural  element  from 
Jacob's  ladder,  and  reduce  it  to  "  mere  naturalism," 
what  harm  is  done?  God  is  not  mocked.  The  sacred 
writer  is  not  discredited.  He  tells  us  distinctly  that 
Jacob  dreamed  and  beheld.  He  tells  us  that  God 
Almighty  appeared  to  Jacob.  No  one  doubts  that 
Jacob  dreamed  and  beheld.  No  one  doubts  that  God 
Almighty  appeared  to  him.  But  there  may  be,  with- 
out impiet}'  and  without  irreverence,  dozens  of  opinions 
as  to  what  particular  kind  of  a  dream  Jacob  dreamed, 
or  in  what  particular  manner  God  appeared  to  him. 
What  we  are  to  do  is  to  study  facts,  and  believe  accord- 
ing to  evidence.  What  we  are  not  to  do#is  to  set  up 
pet  theories  of  naturalism  or  super  naturalism,  and  say, 
"  These  be  thy  gods,  O  Israel !  "  Jf  Jacob  lay  down 
at  Luz,  weary,  footsore,  heavy-hearted,  homesick,  his 
last  waking  gaze  fixed  upon  the  lovely  landscape, 
longing  for  the  comfort  and  consolation  of  which  he 
despaired  ;  and  if,  as  starving  men  dream  of  banquets, 
he  dreamed  of  heavenly  succor,  and  grew  strong  there- 
b}T,  did  not  God  appear  to  him  in  the  dream  ?     Did  he 


78  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

appear  to  him  any  the  less  because  he  may  appear  to 
others  in  the  same  way?  Is  God  dishonored  because 
we  say  that  "  every  good  gift  is  from  above,  and  cometh 
down  from  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  is  no 
variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning,,?  I  see  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  the  divine  Being  values  super- 
naturalism  more  than  naturalism.  On  the  contrary, 
he  never  acts  above  Nature  when  he  can  just  as  well 
act  through  Nature.  And  whether  Jacob  had  a  natu- 
ral or  a  supernatural  dream  is  still  an  open  and  a  per- 
fectly legitimate  question. 

The  gentleman  of  Genesis  was  unquestionably  Jo- 
seph. "  There  were  giants  in  the  earth  in  those  daj^s  ; " 
but  the  only  symmetrical  figure  was  Joseph's.  Adam 
had  dominion  over  the  earth ;  but  he  attempted  to 
shield  himself  from  the  divine  displeasure  by  laying 
the  blame  on  his  wife,  which  no  gentleman  would  ever 
do.  "  Noah  was  a  just  man,  and  perfect  in  his  genera- 
tions,' '  if  you  do  not  mind  an  occasional  fit  of  drunk- 
enness. Abraham  was  a  fine  old  sheik,  a  truly  heroic 
figure,  brave,  generous,  courteous,  hospitable,  mag- 
nanimous. No  wonder  the  haughty  Jews  loved  to 
remember  and  repeat  that  they  were  Abraham's  chil- 
dren. But  Abraham  had  his  weakness,  and  fell  before 
his  temptations ;  and  Isaac  followed  in  his  footsteps. 
Of  Jacob,  perhaps  the  least  said  the  better,  though  he 
maintained  his  position   as  head  of  his  family  with 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  79 

unrelenting  vigor,  calling  no  one  master,  either  son  or 
king.  There  may  have  been  other  men  whose  life  was 
"without  fear,  and  without  reproach  ;  "  but  their  histor}' 
is  unknown  to  us  :  their  portrait  is  hardly  more  than  a 
name.  Joseph  alone  rises  up  out  of  that  vast,  far 
world,  clearly  outlined,  distinctly  seen,  simple,  saintly, 
strong,  —  a  perfect  gentleman. 

Yet  we  should  hardly  expect  it.  His  father  was  a 
man  of  double-dealing,  and  courageous  only  in  ex- 
tremity. His  mother  could  steal,  upon  occasion,  and  lie 
like  a  Frenchwoman,  and  was  envious,  petulant,  and 
unreasonable.  His  brothers  showed  their  blood  and 
training.  They  were  not  without  admirable  traits ; 
but  they  were  given  to  low  vices ;  they  were  treach- 
erous, cruel,  and  remorseless.  And  not  only  was 
Joseph  the  son  of  his  father's  beloved  wife,  the 
child  of  long  waiting  and  many  hopes  ;  but  his  mother 
died  in  his  early  boyhood,  and  left  him  thus  still  more 
at  the  mercy  of  untrained  and  unwise  favoritism. 
Surely  Joseph  had  every  prospect  of  becoming  a 
spoiled  child ;  yet  he  came  out  of  it  all  tender  and 
sweet,  and  pure  as  the  angels  in  heaven.  No  one  pre- 
tends that  he  ever  was  disciplined. .  If  there  is  any 
thing  injudicious  and  unnatural,  it  is  partiality  in 
parental  feeling  and  treatment.  Yet  Jacob  made  no 
secret  that  he  loved  Joseph  more  than  all  the  rest  of 
his  sons.     It  naturally  made  the  others  angry ;   but 


80         SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

Joseph's  amiability  of  temper  and  disposition  seem  to 
have  been  bej^ond  the  reach  of  the  spoiler.  We  see, 
therefore,  that  even  Solomon  cannot  have  it  all  his 
own  wa}\  If  yon  do  not  train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  he  may  go  there,  in  spite  of  you.  Love 
—  demonstrative,  overflowing  everlasting  —  seems  to 
have  done  for  Joseph  every  thing  that  the  severest 
discipline,  the  most  careful  training,  could  have  done. 
Let  us  take  courage.  We  cannot  all  be  wise  ;  but  we 
can  all  love. 

Life  lowered  darkly  over  his  dreams  when  this  hand- 
some, spirited  young  fellow  was  torn  away  from  his 
fond  old  father,  and  sold  into  apparently  perpetual  and 
hopeless  slavery.  From  being  the  pet  and  pride  of 
the  house,  with  great  expectations  of  immense  wealth, 
free,  commanding,  and  beloved,  this  wandering  heir 
was  an  alien  and  a  servant,  and  presently  in  a  dungeon. 
One  would  think  his  heart  would  have  broken  —  his 
free,  wild  soul,  bred  to  the  hills  and  the  skies  and  all 
the  wide  wilderness ;  but  he  held  himself  firmly  and 
equably.  Servitude  and  the  prison  were  but  his  oppor- 
tunity. There  he  developed  his  high  executive  ability, 
and  honor  the  most  delicate  and  lofty.  It  was  not 
supineness,  nor  even  an  Oriental  submission  to  fate ; 
for  his  one  prayer  was  to  be  taken  "  out  of  this 
house  :  "  but,  while  he  was  in  it,  he  lived  and  learned 
and  labored,  instead  of  pining.     How  came  that  grand 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  81 

and  tranquil  spirit  into  the  form  of  the  spoiled  child  ? 
Where,  in  his  nomad,  turbulent  tribe,  did  he  learn 
this  serene  self-possession,  this  instinctive  high-minded- 
ness? 

He  had  a  gentleman's  spontaneous  shrinking  from 
u  a  scene."  When  he  could  no  longer  restrain  him- 
self, when  there  was  no  longer  need  that  he  should 
restrain  himself,  since  he  had  tested  his  brothers'  dis- 
position, and  found  that  those  who  had  sold  him  into 
bondage  were  now  ready  to  assume  the  dungeon  them- 
selves to  save  their  young  brother  for  their  father's 
sake,  he  sent  every  man  —  every  officer,  servant,  at- 
tendant—  out  of  the  room  while  he  made  himself 
known  to  his  brethren.  No  stranger  should  witness 
that  solemn  moment.  And  then  how  his  great  heart 
broke  in  the  anguish  of  love  and  tenderness  and  long- 
ing !  Recognition,  re-assurance,  inquiry,  comfort,  he 
pours  upon  them  incoherently,  impetuously.  No  tact 
of  a  French  salon  could  surpass  the  tender  tact  of  this 
true-hearted  gentleman.  Their  sin  and  shame  must 
come  up  (there  is  no  help  for  that,  his  identity  re- 
quires it)  ;  but  they  come  up  only  to  be  buried  away 
out  of  sight  and  sound  forever.  He  gives  his  brothers 
no  chance  to  repent.  He  takes  the  words  out  of  their 
mouths :  he  would  take  the  thought  out  of  their 
hearts,  if  he  could.  He  forgives  them  so  completely, 
that  they  never  sinned.  It  was  not  they  that  sent  him 
7* 


^ 
sS 


82         SERMONS   TO  THE  CLERGY. 

hither,  but  God.  Whitest  of  all  white  lies !  Whiter 
and  purer  and  fairer  than  the  truth  itself !  Sweet  lie 
that  deceives  nobody,  and  consoles  the  remorseful,  and 
succors  the  fainting  heart !  And  how  guileless,  filial, 
and  natural  is  his  exultation  over  his  proud  pre-emi- 
nence !  Doubtless  he  goes  in  and  out  before  the  Egyp- 
tians as  stately  and  pompous  as  any  Pharaoh  of  them 
all.  No  look  or  word  betrays  the  smallest  conscious- 
ness of  purple  robe  or  regal  chariot ;  but  with  these 
his  brothers,  who  knew  him  as  a  boy,  playing  among 
the  sheepfolds,  he  delights  to  speak  of  his  power ;  and 
perhaps  the  first  pure  joy  in  his  glory  he  feels  is  when 
he  bids  them  "tell  my  father  of  all  my  glory  in  Egj-pt." 
And  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  this  petted,  dreaming 
boy,  this  spotless,  incorruptible  man,  this  fond,  forgiv- 
ing brother  and  yearning  son,  was  no  milksop,  but  a 
great,  powerful,  ambitious,  far-seeing  man,  premier 
of  Egypt,  connected  by  marriage  with  the  first  families, 
emphatically  a  ruler  in  his  own  right  and  by  his  own 
might.  Many  boys,  and  some  men  and  some  women, 
seem  to  think  that  to  be  tender  and  pure  and  loving  is 
to  be  "  spooney."  Our  knowing  philosophers  are  apt 
to  assert  that  "the  good  ones  aren't  smart,  and 
the  smart  ones  aren't  good."  Bring  out,  then,  your 
rough-and-ready  men,  your  sowers  of  wild  oats,  who 
are  "  smarter"  than  Joseph.  Let  us  see  a  question- 
able, unprincipled,  or  careless  life  crowned  with  more 


THE   "BLUE  BLOOD"    OF  CANAAN.  83 

even  of  what  the  world  calls  success  than  this  Sir 
Galahad  of  old  Eg}rpt.  The  boy  dreamed  dreams  by 
the  water-courses  of  Canaan  ;  but  he  was  an  i '  adroit 
politician' '  in  the  council-chamber  of  Pharaoh.  He 
was  not  an  advocate  of  universal  suffrage.  He  had  no 
love  for  a  republican  form  of  government.  He  did  not 
believe  in  democracy.  He  was  a  land-monopolist  of 
the  worst  sort,  and  his  income  taxes  were  enormous. 
But  he  ruled  with  a  high  hand.  His  word  was  law, 
and  his  law  was  final.  Pharaoh  himself  seems  to  have 
been  but  a  roi  faineant.  Whether  in  the  house  of 
Potiphar,  the  prison  of  the  guard,  or  the  palace  of  the 
king,  this  inexperienced  young  shepherd,  this  faithful 
honest  servant,  this  pure,  polite,  gentle,  tender  man, 
rose  by  sheer  wit  and  worth  to  the  first  rank.  And 
finally,  above  all  political  preferment,  and  all  ancestral 
advantage,  and  all  personal  ambition,  he  became  the 
very  head  and  front  of  one  of  the  most  learned,  power- 
ful, and  prosperous  kingdoms  of  antiquity.  Let  vice 
show  a  more  brilliant  career,  before  virtue  is  perma- 
nently discrowned. 

But,  if  I  am  ever  on  speaking  terms  with  Joseph,  I 
mean  to  ask  him  why  it  was,  that,  during  the  twenty 
odd  years  of  his  prison  and  palace  life,  he  never  com- 
municated with  his  father.  His  brothers  deserved  no 
better.  But  the  fond  old  father  was  blameless ;  and  it 
would  have  been  such  a  comfort  to  him  to  know  that 
an  evil  beast  had  not  devoured  the  lad  I 


OTJK  CHAEITIES. 


OUR  CHARITIES. 

IT  a  late  meeting  of  the  American  Board  in 
Rutland,  a  great  deal  was  said  about  giving 
to  the  Lord.  The  point  to  be  driven  in  was 
the  duty  of  supporting  the  various  missions  undertaken 
by  the  churches  which  act  through  the  Board.  One 
speaker  said,  in  substance,  as  reported,  that  "  while  a 
Christian  man  has  a  right  to  accumulate  all  he  needs 
as  a  capital  with  which  to  carry  on  his  business  suc- 
cessfully, and  make  the  most  money  he  can  for  the 
Lord,  yet,  when  this  point  is  once  reached,  it  should  be 
a  serious  question,  whether  the  surplus  should  not  all 
be  systematically  cast  into  the  Lord's  treasury. " 
Another  said  that  one-tenth  was  a  very  small  part  for  a 
rich  man  to  offer  to  the  Lord.  A  third  advocated  the 
system  which  makes  each  one  ask,  "How  much  shall 
I  give  to  the  Lord  ?"  A  fourth  told  of  the  man,  who, 
in  the  loss  of  his  fortune,  rejoiced  in  what  he  had  given 
away;  for  "all  he  gave  to  the  Lord's  treasury  was 
saved,  but  all  he  saved  for  himself  had  been  lost." 
And  so  throughout,  and  throughout  our  ecclesiasticism 

87 


88  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

generally,  the  money  which  we  devote  to  teaching  and 
extending  the  gospel  is  considered  money  given  to  the 
Lord  ;  while  the  money  which  we  devote  to  other  pur- 
poses is  money  kept  to  ourselves. 

That  was  the  phraseology  of  the  law.  But  we  live 
under  the  gospel.  When  there  was  a  Church  and  a 
State  of  which  God  was  the  official  and  recognized 
head,  the  treasury  of  that  Church  was  the  treasury  of 
the  Lord  ;  and  the  offerings  which  God  ordained  as  one 
feature  of  the  regular  worship  were  offerings  unto  the 
Lord.  But  that  Church  and  that  State  government 
have,  by  God's  own  decree,  passed  away.  He  stands 
to  us  now  only  in  spiritual  relations.  No  one  church, 
no  one  government,  no  one  person,  no  one  cause,  is, 
officially,  any  closer  to  him  than  any  other.  He  has  no 
treasury  apart  from  our  treasury.  There  is  no  peculiar 
people  ;  "  but,  in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  God,  and 
worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted  with  him.,,  Phra- 
seology, therefore,  which  was  once  strictly  accurate,  is 
now  only  poetically  true,  and  if  used  too  commonly 
becomes  offensive,  and  if  used  too  strenuously  be- 
comes subversive  of  the  truth,  a  teacher  of  false 
doctrine. 

Granting  to  the  establishment  and  support  of  Chris- 
tian missions  all  the  usefulness  and  importance  which 
their  most  devoted  founders  claim,  it  is  still  not  true 
that  the  money  appropriated  to  them  is    necessarily 


OUR  CHARITIES.  89 

given  to  the  Lord,  airy  more  than  the  money  appropri- 
ated to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  at  home.  Grant- 
ing to  the  pulpit  all  the  power  and  influence  which  its 
friends  assert,  it  is  still  not  true  that  money  appropri- 
ated to  its  support  is  any  more,  necessarily,  given  to 
the  Lord  than  the  money  which  supports  the  family. 
Of  everjr  dollar  and  every  cent  not  spent  for  an  evil 
purpose,  and  wasted  to  no  purpose,  one  may  be 
given  to  the  Lord  just  as  much  as  another  —  no  more, 
and  no  less.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness 
thereof."  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  has 
any  pet  schemes  or  any  favorite  persons.  He  is  simply 
full  of  good-will  to  men ;  and,  wherever  man  spends 
money  for  the  benefit  of  man,  he  is  casting  it  into  the 
treasury  of  the  Lord.  My  Irish  washerwoman,  who 
is  carefully  hoarding  the  few  dollars  earned  by  her 
unremitting  labors,  and  coaxing  her  hens  to  super- 
human efforts  in  the  way  of  eggs,  that  she  may  make 
up  a  certain  sum  for  the  savings  bank  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  quarter,  for  the  future  education  and  re- 
spectability of  her  child,  is  casting  her  money  into  the 
treasury  of  the  Lord  just  as  truly  as  the  rich  men  who 
are  giving  their  thousands,  and  the  poor  widows  who 
are  giving  their  mites,  to  the  American  Board.  The 
man  who  buys  a  picture  to  encourage  a  struggling  ar- 
tist ;  the  woman  who  buys  a  silk  gown,  that  she  maj'  be 
dressed  in  a  manner  becoming  her  position ;  the  girl 
8* 


90  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

who  adorns  her  hair  with  a  red  rose,  that  she  may  be 
pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  her  lover ;  the  lover  who  would 
fain  choose  the  fairest  ring  out  of  the  jeweller's  case  to 
express  his  delight  in  her  who  is  wholly  fair,  —  they 
are  all  giving  their  money  to  the  Lord.  Whatever  it 
is  right  to  do  with  mone}r,  that  is  an  offering  unto  the 
Lord.  The  woman  may  be  extravagant,  the  man  may 
be  dishonest ;  but  whoever  is  spending  money  as  it  is 
right  for  him  to  spend  it,  he  is  casting  it  into  the 
treasury  of  the  Lord. 

God  is  no  tax-gatherer,  demanding  a  tenth  part  of 
our  income  or  property,  and  letting  us  enjoy  the  rest 
ourselves.  He  does  not  stand  in  the  way,  taking 
toll  of  all  who  pass  through  his  world.  The  whole 
world  is  his  ;  and  the  whole  world  is  ours.  He  giveth 
us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy ;  and  he  enjoys  what  we 
enjo}\  So  far  as  our  missiomuy  effort  is  benevolent, 
he,  no  doubt,  is  pleased  with  it.  If  reason  and  reve- 
lation teach  us  any  thing,  the}'  teach  us  that  he,  also, 
enjoys  the  father's  pleasure  in  carrying  home  a  doll  to 
his  little  girl,  a  hoop  to  his  little  boy.  He  is  pleased 
at  the  housewife's  pleasure  in  her  tidy  home,  at  the 
frugal  man's  satisfaction  in  his  accumulating  wealth, 
at  the  energetic  man's  success  in  great  enterprises,  at 
the  poet's  happiness  in  friendly  appreciation  and  world- 
wide fame.  In  whatever  is  generous,  self-sacrificing, 
beneficent,  we  all  agree  God  is  well  pleased.     But  I 


OUR   CHARITIES.  91 

think,  also,  that  in  whatever  is  innocent,  agreeable, 
pleasant,  natural,  he  is  also  pleased.  Wherever  men 
and  women  and  children  are  supporting  themselves, 
gratifying  one  another's  tastes,  bearing  one  another's 
burdens,  entertaining  each  other,  making  life  easy  for 
husband,  wife,  or  child,  smoothing  roughnesses,  level- 
ling stumbling-blocks,  meeting  anno}'ances  quietly,  or 
resenting  offences  wisely,  there  they  are  doing  the 
Lord's  work.  We  ourselves  are  the  temples  of  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  and  whatever  ministers  to  the  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  is  —  Corban.  We  are  the  servants 
and  sons  of  the  Most  High  God.  Not  one-tenth,  nor 
five-tenths,  of  our  income,  but  all  our  income  and  capi- 
tal—  personal  property  and  real  estate  —  belong  to 
him,  and  are  to  be  used  to  further  the  ends  which  he  has 
in  view ;  and  those  ends  must  be  the  happiness,  the 
education,  the  highest  spiritual  life,  of  nations  and  in- 
dividuals. The  Lord  is  not  in  the  American  Board,  nor 
in  the  American  pulpit.  He  is  every  where,  —  in  the 
shop,  by  the  fireside,  at  the  table.  He  is  to  be  served 
by  the  marketing,  as  well  as  by  the  missions.  There  is 
no  rule  of  tenth  and  tribute.  We  are  to  judge  by  our 
own  reason.  We  will  give  to  the  American  Board 
such  and  so  much  as  its  wisdom  and  necessities  de- 
mand of  us,  but  on  precisely  the  same  grounds  as  we 
furnish  our  tables,  and  fill  our  wardrobes.  I  see  no 
reason  why  we  should  ask  the  Master  of  the  universe 


92         SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

how  much  we  shall  give  to  the  American  Board,  any 
more  than  we  should  ask  him  how  much  we  shall  spend 
upon  a  croquet-set,  or  whether  we  shall  buy  a  Brussels 
or  an  ingrain  carpet.  He  has  given  us  abundant 
means  to  find  out  these  things  for  ourselves  ;  and  he 
cannot  be  pleased  to  have  us  ask  needless  questions. 
We  know,  or  ought  to  know,  what  our  account-books 
say,  just  as  well  as  Omniscience  knows  it ;  and,  if  we 
do  not  know  whether  the  American  Board  is  wise  in  its 
administration,  Omniscience  will  never  tell  us,  so  long 
as  the  publication  of  "The  Missionary  Herald,"  and 
"  The  Annual  Report,"  and  the  daily  newspapers,  is 
continued.  A  lady  from  the  Board  of  the  Interior  urged 
women  to  give  their  jewels  for  the  missionary  work.  The 
ear-rings  alone,  she  thought,  might  prevent  the  need  of 
retrenchment  for  a  long  time.  Another  lady  described 
a  scene  in  Turkey  where  this  idea  was  put  in  practice. 
From  a  service  with  the  native  women  there,  she  had 
carried  home  a  handkerchief-full  of  jewelry  given  for 
the  building  of  the  mission-chapel.  One  woman  gave 
a  bracelet  she  had  worn  fifty  3-ears  ;  and  the}T  observed 
that  her  ear-rings  were  also  gone.  "Yes,"  she  said, 
"those  are  for  the  Lord  too."  The  good  lady  who 
tells  us  the  story  says  she  felt  ashamed  of  her  own  ear- 
rings, though  they  were  only  the  little  ones  "John" 
gave  her. 

I  do  not  question  either  the  sincerity  or  the  earnest- 


OUR  CHARITIES.  93 

ness  of  the  speakers  or  of  the  writer.  When  the  heart 
is  wholly  set  on  any  object,  the  mind  naturally  sees  all 
things  in  relation  to  that  object.  The  ladies  who  have 
embarked  their  hopes  and  their  fortunes  in  missionary 
enterprises  must  look  upon  any  failure  to  support  them 
with  the  utmost  regret  and  dismay.  And,  indeed,  it 
would  seem  to  the  most  casual  observer,  that  failure, 
or  even  retrenchment,  would  not  be  creditable  to  the 
churches.  But  I  cannot  think  we  have  reached  the 
point  at  which  gentle  and  affectionate  ladies  need  be 
uncomfortable  in  wearing  the  ear-rings  which  their 
husbands  gave  them. 

Nor  do  the  ladies  in  question  think  so  themselves. 
The  shrinking  possessor  of  the  ear-rings  goes  naively 
over  to  the  other  side  of  the  argument  with  the  most 
winning  unconsciousness  that  she  has  made  a  change 
of  base.  One  peculiarity  of  the  Rutland  meeting 
was  the  evening  reception  given  to  .the  missionaries 
in  the  three  church  parlors.  In  one  of  these  was 
spread  a  table  covered  with  refreshments,  and  adorned 
with  pyramids  of  fruits  and  flowers. 

"Why  was  this  waste  of  the  ointment  made?" 
some  one  asks ;  and  the  moderately  bejewelled  lady 
answers,  "  It  was  not  wasted  for  those  brave  soldiers 
of  the  cross,  any  more  than  it  was  in  olden  time,  on 
the  feet  of  the  Master.  It  will  be  told  in  memory 
of  the  Rutland  women."     And   she   is  as  right  as  a 


94  SERMONS  TO   TEE  CLERGY. 

trcvet  in  this  decision ;  but  it  effectually  disposes  of 
the  ear-ring  question. 

It  is  not  simply  a  matter  of  giving  ear-rings :  it  is 
one  that  concerns  the  whole  structure  of  societ}7.  If 
we  are  to  devote  our  ear-rings  to  the  American  Board, 
we  must  wholly  and  radically  re-organize  our  mode  of 
life.  There  is  only  one  principle  on  which  these  orna- 
ments are  due  to  that  organization ;  and  that  is,  that 
we  have  no  personal  right  to  any  thing  more  than  the 
necessaries  of  life,  until  all  the  rest  of  the  world  is 
supplied  with  the  necessaries  of  life.  If  this  is 
Christianity,  we  are  bound  to  put  it  immediately  and 
forever  into  practice.  If  we  are  not  bound  to  put  it 
immediately  and  completely  into  practice,  it  is  not 
Christianity. 

What  would  it  involve?  As  there  are  thousands, 
and  tens  of  thousands,  of  persons  at  this  moment  in  the 
world,  with  physical  needs  unsupplied,  and  hundreds 
of  thousands  with  spiritual  wants  unprovided  for,  we 
should  sacrifice,  not  our  ear-rings  alone,  but  our  silk 
gowns  and  our  broadcloth  coats,  our  carpets  and 
china,  and  most  of  our  curtains  and  sofas  and  chairs 
and  silver.  It  means,  for  clergymen,  shirts  of  the 
coarsest  unbleached  cotton,  and,  for  their  wives,  gowns 
of  linse3^-woolsey.  It  means,  in  short,  the  relinquish- 
ment of  nearty  every  thing  that  marks  refinement  of 
tastes   or  habits,  or  culture   in   art   and  science.     It 


OUR  CHARITIES.  95 

means  a  return  to  the  roughest  and  most  primitive 
form  of  social  and  family  life.  There  is  no  reason 
why  the  lady  should  give  up  her  ear-rings,  that  does 
not  apply  with  equal  force  to  her  reverend  husband's 
sleeve-buttons  ;  and  even  then  the  "  refreshments  "  of 
those  Rutland  parlors  should,  to  use  a  classical 
phrase,  have  stuck  in  their  throats. 

As  a  general  principle,  this  seems  wholly  irrational 
and  unscriptural.  There  are  emergencies  which  re- 
quire sacrifices ;  but  these  are  local,  temporary,  ex- 
ceptional, each  separate  case  to  be  judged  upon  its 
own  individual  merits.  It  would  be  disgraceful,  mon- 
strous, for  a  woman  to  wear  ear-rings  while  her 
child,  or  even  her  neighbor,  was  dying  of  starvation 
which  could  be  fended  off  only  by  those  ornaments. 
But  the  certain  conviction  that  there  are  at  this 
moment  persons  perishing  somewhere  —  in  London, 
or  China,  or  Nova  Zembla  —  for  lack  of  food,  does 
not  induce  us  to  strip  off  the  rings  from  our  fingers, 
the  lace  from  our  gowns,  the  gold  heads  from  our 
canes.  The  world  is  one.  The  cause  of  refinement, 
of  civilization,  of  art,  of  science,  is  the  cause  of  God 
just  as  much  as  the  missionary  cause.  He  seems 
to  be  just  as  much  engaged  in  polishing  the  corner- 
stones as  in  hewing  them  out  of  the  rough  rock.  The 
Bible,  on  this  point,  gives  no  uncertain  sound.  There 
is,  relatively,  perhaps  absolutely,  no  more  suffering  in 


96  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

the  world  to-da}T  than  there  was  when  the  Lord  God 
commanded  to  overlay  the  ark  with  pure  gold,  to  make 
the  merc}T-seat  of  pure  gold,  and  the  cherubims  of 
beaten  gold,  and  the  ten  curtains  of  fine  twined  linen, 
blue  and  purple  and  scarlet.  Splendor  of  tabernacle 
and  temple  and  priestly  garb  seems  to  have  been 
ordained  as  means  of  grace.  The  souls  of  the  Jews 
were  to  be  reached  through  their  eyes.  Pomp  and 
circumstance,  beauty  and  ornament,  are  accepted  in  the 
Bible  very  much  as  they  are  accepted  in  the  world,  — 
admirable  and  valuable  when  they  are  the  outward 
and  visible  sign  of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace, 
hypocritical  and  abhorred  when  they  are  substituted 
for  the  grace  itself. 

Even  the  New  Dispensation,  upheld  by  no  pomp, 
endowed  only  with  its  own  inherent  vitalit}^,  is  adjusted 
on  principles  harmonious  with  the  severest  code  of 
common  sense.  When  the  lawyer  asked  Jesus,  "  Who 
is  nry  neighbor?  "  he  set  forth  no  impracticable  scheme 
of  universal  relief,  but  minded  him  of  the  duty  that  he 
owed  to  all  the  suffering  with  which  he  came  in  contact. 

There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  use  our  own  reason, 
reluctant  as  we  are  to  make  that  last  resort.  The 
Bible  abounds  in  precepts  and  principles  and  illustra- 
tions ;  but  it  steadfastly  refuses  to  give  us  rules.  The 
men  and  the  women  of  old  time,  willing  hearted, 
brought  their  bracelets  and  ear-rings,  and  heaped  them 


OUR  CHARITIES.  97 

up  for  the  service  of  the  tabernacle  ;  but  the}'  brought 
them  with  equal  alacrity  for  the  making  of  the  molten 
calf.  The  small,  sweet  courtesies  of  life  have  their 
part  in  Christian  character  as  inalienably  as  its  sterner 
duties.  The  flowers  and  fruits,  the  coffee  and  salads, 
of  the  pleasant  Rutland  reception,  were  as  legitimate  a 
feature  of  the  missionary  work  as  the  printing-press 
and  the  colporter.  A  tasteful  and  cultivated  family- 
circle  is  a  powerful  missionary  institution.  The  king's 
daughter  is  not  only  "all-glorious  within,"  but  "her 
clothing  is  of  wrought  gold."  The  emergencies  are 
extremely  rare  which  make  it  requisite,  or  becoming, 
for  her  to  lay  aside  this  regal  robe,  and  array  herself 
in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  The  diamond  ring  may  be 
just  as  truly  consecrated  to  God  on  your  own  finger 
as  in  the  contribution-box. 

Which  does  not  affect  the  fact,  that  the  churches 
would  fearfully  stultify  themselves,  if,  while  declaring 
their  belief  in  Christian  missions,  they  should  enforce 
or  permit  retrenchment. 

We  need  a  more  intelligent  understanding  of  the 
principles  upon  which  all  wise  charity  is  founded, 
whether  that  charity  be  directed  towards  the  spiritual 
wants  of  the  heathen,  or  the  physical  wants  of  our  own 
people.  This  American  people  is  a  people  of  magnifi- 
cent generosity,  and  makes  some  very  splendid  fail- 
ures. In  benevolence,  as  in  business,  the  logic  of 
9 


98  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

events  is  merciless.  No  matter  how  innocently  we  sin, 
our  sin  is  sure  to  find  us  out.  If  business  be  not  con- 
ducted in  accordance  with  the  unwritten  laws  of  trade, 
if  benevolence  be  not  conformed  to  the  eternal  laws  of 
human  nature,  no  integrity  and  no  unselfishness  can 
ward  off  disaster,  either  from  the  one  or  from  the 
other. 

"  The  most  bungling  work  society  ever  did,"  Mr. 
Beecher  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  was  when  it  tried 
to  be  merciful. "  True,  doubtless.  Society  is  clumsy  ; 
but  let  it  alwa}^s  be  remembered,  in  mitigation  of  its 
blunders,  that  the  poor  are  infinitely  harder  to  deal 
with  than  the  prosperous,  and  that  the  difficulties  of 
the  situation  are  enough  to  make  even  society  lose  its 
self-possession. 

-  The  poor-house  is  a  dreadful  place,  no  doubt ;  but 
they  are  a  dreadful  sort  of  persons  that  live  in  it. 
Town-paupers  are  not  above  their  situation.  City 
poor-houses  may  be  filled  with  high-minded  victims  of 
circumstances ;  but,  in  the  country,  paupers  who  have 
fallen  under  my  observation  have  been,  without  ex- 
ception, the  offscouring  of  the  earth, — dissipated, 
imbecile,  incapable.  They  are  God's  children,  I 
admit;  but  we  are  God's  children  too:  and,  if  his 
hand  made  the  inmates  of  the  poor-house  disagreeable 
and  despicable,  the  same  hand  made  them  incurably 
repugnant  to  outsiders.  One  can  no  more  help  being 
repelled  by  them  than  they  can  help  being  paupers. 


OUR  CHARITIES.  99 

These  remnants  of  society  are  also  a  great  deal 
harder  to  get  on  with  than  society  itself.  Society  is 
discerning,  prosperous,  and  polite :  it  decorously  con- 
ceals its  displeasure,  speaks  you  fairly,  understands 
you  generously,  and,  if  it  has  any  thing  to  say  against 
you,  says  it  behind  your  back,  where  it  does  no  harm. 
But  the  remnants  scowl  in  your  face,  if  the  porridge 
you  bring  them  is  not  quite  thick  enough :  in  fact, 
you  must  carefully  find  out  whether  it  will  do  to  take 
them  any  porridge,  lest  you  hurt  their  feelings.  In 
English  novels,  the  poor  are  grateful  and  reverential : 
in  American  life,  they  are  autocratic.  It  is  always  a 
question  beforehand,  whether  they  will  hold  out  their 
sceptre  at  your  approach.  They  are  quite  as  likely  to 
be  angry  at  your  coming  so  late,  or  so  early,  as  grate- 
ful for  your  coming  at  all.  You  must  keep  constantly 
on  the  lookout,  and  tack  and  veer  and  haul,  or  you 
will  speedily  come  to  grief  on  the  breakers.  To  your 
equals,  you  can  speak  with  freedom  and  force ;  but 
the  sensitiveness  of  our  high-spirited  beneficiaries 
is  something  to  be  admired.  I  have  known  a  man, 
who  had  been  for  years  upheld  \>y  the  charity  of  his 
neighbors,  fly  into  a  passion  of  rage^  because  it  was 
suggested  that  he  should  be  taken  to  a  comfortable 
refuge.  No  doubt,  society  is  clumsy  in  its  attempt  to 
help ;  but  the  crankiness  and  kinkiness  and  general 
wrongheadedness   of  the  people  to  be  helped   make 


100  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

society  clumsy.  If  you  could  be  natural  and  simple 
with  them,  as  j'ou  can  with  your  peers,  it  would  be 
easier ;  but  they  are  so  open  to  offence,  and  so  ungene- 
rous in  interpretation,  that  you  must  weigh  all  frank- 
ness out  of  your  words,  and  give  only  a  measured 
platitude  to  satisfy  their  querulous  honor. 

By  poor  people,  I  suppose  we  all  mean,  not  those 
who  have  greater  or  less  incomes,  or  who  are  forced 
to  hard  work,  but  people  who  are  not  self-supporting, 
not  independent,  —  the  persons  who  have  to  be  helped. 

The  fact  of  poverty  in  a  country  like  this  is  a 
presumption  of  defect.  The  land  is  broad,  food  is 
plentiful,  labor  scanty  and  high,  government  just  and 
almost  impalpable.  What  doth  hinder  any  man  from 
earning  his  own  living  ?  Illness  may  come :  sudden 
calamity  may  fall.  Against  these,  even  energy  may 
be  powerless  ;  but,  apart  from  this,  it  is  to  be  assumed 
that  he  who  fails,  fails  because  he  lacks  wisdom,  and 
not  opportunity.  And  the  same  weakness  which  pre- 
vented him  from  grasping  the  opportunity  prevents 
him  from  keeping  hold  of  it  after  it  is  put  into  his 
hand.  Once  in  a  while,  once  in  a  great  while,  a 
timely  succor  avails  in  a  moment  of  temporary  weak- 
ness, or  averts  the  consequence  of  a  mistake  ;  and  the 
man  starts  ahead  at  a  swinging  pace.  But,  oftener, 
the  results  seem  to  indicate  that  it  is  of  very  little  use 
to  help  people  who   cannot    help    themselves.     The 


OUR  CHARITIES.  101 

kingdom  of  pauperism  is  within  them.  The  very 
causes  that  made  them  poor  keep  them  poor.  It  is 
not  that  society  bears  clown  hard  upon  them:  it 
is  that  they  are  self-indulgent.  If  you  see  a  widow 
and  five  children  shivering  over  a  few  embers,  you  pity 
them,  and  you  must  send  them  coal ;  but  you  cannot 
help  feeling  a  wrathful  contempt  at  knowing  that  they 
all  went  to  the  photographer's  yesterday,  and  had  their 
pictures  taken,  after  bu}*ing  a  couple  of  twenty-five 
cent  brooches,  on  the  way,  to  adorn  themselves  withal. 
The  very  things  that  you  yourself  would  hesitate  to 
do,  on  account  of  the  expense,  people  who  are  partially 
dependent  on  joxxv  charity  will  do  without  hesitation. 
Where  you  will  practise  a  natural,  cheerful,  unthinking 
self-denial,  they  will  practise  an  equally  cheerful  and 
unthinking  self-indulgence.  The  remnants  of  bread 
that  you  dry  in  the  oven,  and  save  for  future  use, 
they  throw  away.  The  fragmentary  vest-sleeve  that 
you  fashion  into  a  flat-iron  holder,  they  put  into  the 
rag-bag,  and  buy  new  cloth  for  their  holders.  Where 
3-011  rise  at  six,  they  lie  till  half-past  seven.  Where 
you  walk,  they  ride.  Where  you  pray  and  watch  and 
strive  to  do  your  work  thoroughly,  the}?-  are  content 
with  airy  thing  that  will  answer.  That  is  the  reason 
wiry  people  are  poor.  In  this  county,  any  man  who 
is  strong,  and  willing  to  work,  can  support  himself, 
and  all  the  family  he  ought  to  have.  This  is  not  a 
9* 


102  SERMONS  TO   TIIE  CLERGY. 

sentimental  or  a  picturesque  view  to  take  of  poverty ; 
but,  so  far  as  my  observation  goes,  it  is  the  true  one. 
I  have  been  far  oftener  surprised  to  see  how  the  will 
to  work  triumphs  over  obstacles  than  I  have  to  see 
how  obstacles  triumph  over  the  will  to  work.  Right 
and  left  are  women  with  infant  children,  incapable  or 
invalid  or  dissipated  husbands,  surmounting  hinder- 
ances,  and  earning  not  only  a  living,  but  a  compe- 
tence, by  sheer  pluck,  or,  if  that  is  not  an  admissible 
word,  will.  I  see  men  with  indifferent  health,  but 
sturdy  self-reliance  and  creditable  pride,  by  steady 
industiy,  buying  and  building  houses,  lifting  mort- 
gages, growing  gradually  and  surely  into  prominent 
and  permanent  respectability  ;  while  others,  who  started 
with  apparently  equal  or  superior  advantages,  falter 
and  fail,  simply  from  indolence,  or  feebleness  of  pur- 
pose. We  pity  them ;  but  we  also  despise  them. 
Every  healthy  mind  must  despise  that  trait  which 
permits  a  man  or  a  woman  to  prefer  ignoble  ease  to 
a  dignified  though  hardly-earned  independence  ;  which 
permits  the  day-laborer  to  live  bountifully  on  to-da3T's 
wages,  without  laying  by  any  store  for  the  morrow,  on 
which  he  cannot  work.  Even  the  beasts  of  the  field 
know  better  than  that.  Have  we  been  all  our  life- 
time reading  the  fables  of  bees  and  butterflies,  of 
lady  bugs  and  ants,  to  think  now  that  it  is  prett}7  and 
pathetic,  and  not  disgraceful,  for  a  man  to  be  shivering 


OUR  CHARITIES.  103 

like  a  ladybug  in  the  winter  time,  for  which  he  has 
made  no  provision?  When  I  see  how  improvidently 
people  will  spend  their  mone}7,  in  the  face  of  possible 
want,  and  certain  need  of  economy,  I  question  whether 
our  charities  have  not  their  unwholesome  side.  If 
every  man  knew  that  he  must  earn  his  bread,  or  go 
without  it,  would  he  not  be  more  diligent  to  earn,  and 
more  careful  not  to  waste  what  he  did  not  want  ?  If 
a  drunkard  knew  that  his  children  would  starve  unless 
he  fed  them,  would  he  not  put  a  stronger  curb  on  his 
appetite  than  now,  when  he  knows  they  will  be  taken 
care  of,  after  a  fashion  ? 

Logic  says,  If  the  young  man  will  not  go  West, 
and  feed  on  the  abundant  wheat  which  his  own  hand 
raises,  let  him  stay  East,  and  die  for  want  of  it.  If 
the  young  woman  will  not  become  a  skilful  housewife, 
let  her  stoop  her  life  out  over  the  needle.  If  the 
thriving  mechanic  or  factory  workman  will  not  lay  up 
wages  when  business  is  good,  let  him  see  his  little  ones 
perish  for  lack  of  food  when  the  mills  are  closed. 
There  is  no  way  to  teach  providence,  except  by 
letting  persons  suffer  to  the  full  the  consequences  of 
improvidence. 

If  men  feel  that  fate  is  inexorable,  will  they  not 
prepare  to  meet  it  ?  It  is  because  they  expect  some- 
thing to  step  in,  and  shield  them  from  the  consequences 
of  their  own  acts,  that  the}r  are  so  reckless  of  conse- 


104  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

quences.  Mr.  Brace  gives  direct  testimony  to  this 
end.  Men,  last  winter,  disdained  labor  through  all  the 
country-side,  rejected  fair  wages  and  useful  work, 
because  New  York  offered  them  bed  and  board  without 
either.  Women  disdained  service,  and  used  without 
scruple  the  funds  of  charity  to  enable  them  to  hold 
out  against  the  demands  of  trade.  Able-bodied  pau- 
pers refused  fifteen  dollars  a  month  with  "  keep.'' 
Girls  would  not  work  at  less  than  fourteen  and  twenty 
dollars  a  month,  and  would  not  go  into  the  country  at 
all.  Suffering  artisans  refused  to  work  at  twelve  shil- 
lings a  day.  With  two  hundred  idle  iron-puddlers  on 
the  list  of  a  single  soup-kitchen  in  New  York,  iron- 
puddlers  had  to  be  sent  for  from  Pennsylvania. 

The  experiment  never  will  be  tried ;  for  nobody  is 
strictly  logical,  or  will  see  suffering  without  relieving 
it,  whoever  is  to  blame  for  it,  or  is  confirmed  in  his 
sins  thereby :  but  if  charity,  while  holding  out  relief 
in  one  hand,  would  give  a  good  shaking-up  with  the 
other,  it  might  sometimes  be  just  as  serviceable  as  to 
paint  pauperism  always  as  an  interesting  and  romantic 
condition. 

Without  detracting  a  penny  from  heavenly  charity, 
or  one  drop  of  cream  from  the  milk  of  human  kind- 
ness, it  is  well  enough  to  remind  ourselves  occasion- 
ally, that,  in  this  country  of  slight  government  and 
great  opportunity,  all  pauperism,  except  that  which  is 


OUR  CnARITIES.  105 

caused  by  innocent  illness,  or  overpowering  calamity, 
is  somebody's  shame  ;  and  every  thing  that  shades  into 
it  is  correspondingly  disgraceful,  not  to  be  patted 
and  petted  and  pitied,  but  to  be  got  out  of,  and  away 
from,  as  fast  and  as  far  as  possible. 

While  we  cannot  say  that  logic  should,  in  all  cases, 
be '  carried  out  to  its  extreme  limit,  we  cannot  read 
such  statements  as  Mr.  Brace's  without  feeling  that 
it  is  dangerous  not  to  use  logic  in  charity  as  strictly 
as  in  business.  We  cannot  lay  down  the  law  that 
he  who  cannot  help  himself  is  not  worth  being  helped 
by  others,  since  that  contradicts  the  law  of  humanity 
and  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  But,  surety,  when  men 
have  proved  themselves  so  incapable  as  to  need  assist- 
ance, the  assisting  party  has  a  right  to  dictate  condi- 
tions, and  to  enforce  upon  the  weak  the  rules,  which 
have  enabled  itself  to  become  strong. 

It  is  far  easier  to  give  a  dollar  to  a  poor  man,  or  a 
thousand  dollars  to  a  soup-house,  than  it  is  to  inquire 
into  the  sources  of  pauperism,  and  the  modes  adopted 
for  its  removal ;  but  it  is  to  the  last  degree  unpatriotic 
and  unchristian.  When  a  poor  woman  begs  at  your 
door,  it  is  easier  to  give  her  food  and  clothing  than  it 
is  to  follow  or  accompany  her  to  her  own  house  to 
ascertain  the  truth  of  her  story,  to  supply  her  with 
work,  to  teach  her  how  to  do  it,  and  to  put  her  in  the 
way  of  becoming  self-supporting.      If  the  heedless, 


106  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

busy,  or  selfish  giver  is  remonstrated  with,  he  says, 
"  I  would  rather  give  to  ten  impostors  than  refuse  one 
deserving,' '  and  hugs  himself  for  a  generous  and 
benevolent  man.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  do  either. 
The  over-worked  lawyer,  or  tired  plumber,  may  not  be 
able  to  follow  up  every  case  of  distress  that  presents 
itself  to  him ;  but  it  is  as  easy  to  delegate  that  dut}~  to 
another  as  it  is  to  delegate  to  another  his  charity-soup, 
instead  of  brewing  the  pottage  himself.  Money  and 
wisdom  will  organize  a  harmless  and  beneficent 
charity  as  truly,  if  not  as  easily,  as  they  will  organize 
an  injurious  and  unintelligent  charity.  In  Boston, 
beggary  is  against  the  law,  and  all  persons  are  warned 
against  bestowing  money  on  beggars.  Whoever  does 
it  knows,  at  least,  that  he  is  doing  a  work  of  super- 
erogation, and  cannot  have  the  applause  even  of  a 
darkened  conscience. 

Unintelligent  giving  is  so  hurtful,  that  its  perpetra- 
tion should  be  made  odious.  It  is  giving  pleasure  to 
ourselves,  regardless  of  the  injury  we  inflict  on  the 
receiver,  or  the  stumbling-block  we  put  in  the  way  of 
those  who  are  intelligently  seeking  his  welfare.  Sup- 
pose a  great  city  trying  to  elevate  its  poor,  to  teach 
them  the  first  principles  of  political  economy,  the 
painful  wa}Ts  to  honest  work,  the  slow,  sure  rewards 
of  skill,  the  unerring  rules  of  supply  and  demand. 
Charity  is  at  its  very  best  in  doing  this ;  and  charity 


OUR  CHARITIES.  107 

it  is,  since  logic  would  do  it  only  by  starvation  and 
suffering.  Whatever  does  it  tenderly,  without  pay, 
without  anguish,  supporting  while  it  teaches,  is  charity. 
He,  then,  who  strikes  across  this  lesson  with  some 
entirely  irrelevant  offer  of  free  lodgings,  or  free  soup, 
to  all  the  need}r,  tends  to  throw  every  thing  into  confu- 
sion, and  does  harm  instead  of  good. 

Charity  should  always  couple  money  with  work 
for  the  able-bodied.  It  would  be  better  that  it  should 
be  useless  work  than  that  there  should  be  no  work  at 
all.  Whoever  applies  for  mone}^  or  soup,  let  him  be 
set  to  work  at  shoemaking,  or  any  form  of  simple 
work,  and  paid  wages  as  low  as  may  be  sufficient  to 
keep  him  from  want ;  and,  if  the  revenues  of  the  busi- 
ness be  insufficient  to  pay  its  expenses,  let  the  deficit 
be  met  out  of  the  charity  fund;  and,  if  he  will  not 
work,  neither  shall  he  eat.  If  we  could  know  the 
facts,  we  should  doubtless  seldom  find  need  of  this. 
In  our  large  country,  the  supply  of  labor  usually  falls 
short  of  the  demand.  What  we  want  is  not  shops  for 
fictitious  work,  but,  if  necessary,  the  ability  to  trans- 
port and  apply  labor.  It  seems,  even,  that  we  do  not 
need  bureaus  to  regulate  such  transportation  ;  for  they 
already  exist.  The  two  hundred  iron-puddlers  sipping 
the  charity-soup  of  New  York  were  not  unneeded 
laborers,  who  should  have  been  sent  to  empty  Pennsyl- 
vania mills:   on  the  contrary,   the   New  York  mills 


108  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

had  to  send  to  Pennsylvania  for  puddlers,  while  these 
paupers  fed  at  the  public  feeding- troughs.  Mr.  Brace 
advertised  largely  that  they  were  ready  to  send  labor 
where  capital  was  loudly  calling  for  it ;  but  labor  re- 
fused to  go.  It  preferred  to  stay  in  the  city,  to  fatten 
on  charity,  and  herd  with  idleness  and  vice.  This 
being  the  case,  I  see  no  reason  why  the  indiscriminate 
alms-giver  in  New  York  is  not  a  malefactor,  large 
or  small,  according  to  the  scale  on  which  he  works. 
The  real  workers  of  the  community  are  prej^ed  upon 
by  the  idlers  ;  and  the  rich  help  on  their  spoliation. 
The  householders  are  deprived  of  the  help  which  they 
ought  to  have  in  the  kitchen ;  the  manufacturers,  of  the 
hands  which  should  guide  engine  and  loom,  because 
outsiders  step  in  to  drown  the  natural  regulations  of 
supply  and  demand  in  a  swash  of  free  soup. 

If  the  kind-hearted  and  the  benevolent,  the  great 
majority  of  our  self-supporting  population,  would 
either  turn  their  gifts  into  the  established  channels  of 
charity,  or  acquaint  themselves  thoroughly  with  the 
persons  whom  they  wish  to  relieve,  they  would  do  all 
the  good,  and  feel  all  the  pleasure,  which  they  now  do, 
without  impoverishing  themselves,  without  injuring  the 
poor,  and  without  deteriorating  society.  It  would  no 
longer  be  possible  for  "able-bodied  paupers"  to  prey 
upon  the  industrious  and  self-respecting.  That  "  able- 
bodied  paupers  "  should  exist  in  and  be  supported  by 

9* 


OUR  CHARITIES.  109 

a  city  where  girls  refuse  thirteen  dollars  a  month  be~ 
sides  their  board,  and  where  men  refuse  nine  shillings 
a  da}r,  is  a  burden  upon  the  worthy  poor  and  the  hon- 
est rich  too  great  to  be  borne.  Let  Charity  be  wise  as 
well  as  kind.  Let  her  help  the  incapable,  and  not 
pauper  the  lazy,  or  encourage  the  stubborn.  As  it  is, 
this  flower  of  our  civilization  shows  a  bad  tendency  to 
become  a  weed,  and  to  overrun,  and  overshadow  with 
its  rank  mischief,  the  ground  which  should  be  occupied 
by  growths  that  are  pleasant  to  the  eye,  and  good  for 
food,  and  to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise. 

We  have  allowed  matters  so  to  adjust  themselves, 
that  "  tramps  "  are  getting  to  be  a  distinct  and 
dangerous  class.  They  were  always  a  nuisance ; 
but  now,  from  an  anno}dng,  they  have  become  a 
menacing,  nuisance.  In  ancient  clays  an  "old.  strag- 
gler" produced  a  sensation  in  a  village.  The  school- 
children scented  him  from  afar,  and,  with  swift  heels 
and  scant  breath,  reported  him  to  their  comrades, 
huddled  into  the  schoolhouse,  watched  him  by,  behind 
barred  windows  and  bolted  doors,  and  followed  him, 
retreating,  at  a  safe  distance.  At  the  rare  and  hospi- 
table farmhouses  the  "old  straggler"  called,  modest, 
and  "sensing"  the  situation.  He  never  drank:  he 
had  no  thirst  for  intoxicating  liquor,  but  was  generally 
a  prey  to  some  disease  for  which  "  a  little  saleratus 
and  cider ' '  was  the  sovereignest  thing  on  earth ;  and  I 


110  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

doubt  not  many  a  bearded  man  remembers  the  curi- 
osity with  which  he  watched  the  wa}^farer's  eager  hold, 
rapt  eyes,  and  negligence  of  breath,  as  he  pressed  the 
cider  pitcher  upside  down  to  his  longing  lips,  loath  to 
lose  one  drop  of  possible  delight.  As  we  have  arrived 
at  man's  estate  ourselves,  we  have  seen  the  "  old 
straggler"  coming  thicker  and  faster ;  but  he  is  not  so 
old  as  he  was.  He  is  shabby  enough ;  but  he  is  usually 
a  young  fellow,  able-bodied,  out  of  work,  and  travel- 
ling to  Portsmouth.  Sometimes  he  is  fierce  and  Span- 
ish-looking ;  but  oftener  he  is  sandy -haired,  sunburned, 
and  freckled,  ill-favored,  but  not  brigandish.  He 
seldom  asks  for  money,  but  is  perpetually  hungry.  If 
you  give  him  a  remainder  biscuit  with  an  apology,  he 
accepts  gratefully,  with  the  assurance  that  it  is  "  firs' - 
rate,"  while,  if  you  proffer  a  generous  slice  of  squash 
pie  fresh  from  the  oven,  ten  to  one  but  you  shall 
go  out  to  find  it  dashed  against  your  garden  wall.  I 
do  not  so  much  mind  the  wasted  viand,  though  that 
grieves  me  to  the  heart ;  but  the  spretce  injuria  for mce, 
the  slight  put  upon  my  cooking,  for  all  the  neighbors 
to  see,  —  that  I  never  will  forgive.  Nor  do  we,  like 
them  of  old  time,  invite  these  wa37farers  to  the  kitchen 
to  warm  their  frozen  fingers  by  the  glowing  hearth- 
stone. A  seat  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  door-step  is 
the  most  cordial  invitation  they  receive,  and  that  with 
locks   and  bolts  well  secured ;  for  their  humility  and 


OUR   CHARITIES  111 

harmlessness  seem  to  be  deserting  them.  They  come 
no  longer  singly,  but  in  squads.  They  have  ceased  to 
beg:  they  demand.  Their  tramp  has  become  their 
profession.  Their  spare  money  they  evidently  spend 
in  clubs,  knives,  and  revolvers.  We  scarcely  take  up 
a  newspaper  without  reading  of  some  outrage  and 
violence  perpetrated  by  a  tramp.  They  rob,  burn, 
murder.  They  attack  men  and  women  and  children. 
They  travel  in  couples  and  quartets,  evidently  divid- 
ing up  the  houses  among  themselves.  Some  of  our 
laws  seem  especially  made  for  their  nurture ;  or  is  it 
that  our  American  institutions  are  so  flexible,  that  the 
tramps  easily  bend  them  to  their  own  advantage? 
Every  town  is  obliged,  by  law,  to  find  lodging  and  food 
for  wayfarers :  so  the  tramps  are  assured  of  bed  and 
board ;  and  if  the  landlord  or  landlady  secured  for 
them  be  of  congenial  spirit,  the  gypsies  live  in  clover. 
A  little  village  of  eight  hundred  inhabitants  is  so 
generously  disposed  toward  the  poor,  that  its  chronic 
paupers  have  been  distinguished  for  the  elegance  of 
their  dress  ;  and  twenty-five  dollars  have  been  paid 
for  a  single  night's  lodging  of  the  vagabonderie.  Of 
course,  these  nomads  know  when  they-are  well  off:  so 
they  u  cut  and  come  again.' '  I  have  seen  parties  of 
four  and  six  walking  back  and  forth  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  village,  waiting  till  it  was  dark  enough  to  make 
their  request  for  lodgings  legal.     And  so  great  is  their 


112        SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

liking  for  their  hospitable  quarters,  that  they  are  sure 
not  to  go  so  far  off  that  the}'  cannot  return  at  night- 
fall. This  is,  perhaps,  a  good  way  to  prevent  crime, 
since  the  scoundrels  have  all  they  want,  and  are  not 
tempted  to  violence  ;  but  it  is  also  an  excellent  way  to 
nurse  vice.  And  it  is,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  little 
burdensome  to  the  proud  and  haughty,  who  prefer  not 
to  beg,  and  who  are  therefore  forced  to  work. 

Vagabondage,  if  it  be  not  made  a  crime,  should  at 
least  work  forfeiture  of  freedom.  If  tramps  are  to  be 
supported  by  honest  men,  honest  men  should  at  least 
have  the  power  to  say  in  what  manner  the  tramps  shall 
be  supported.  It  is  unfair  for  the  farmer  to  work 
hard  in  the  hot  hayfield  all  day  or  the  shoemaker 
in  his  little  cramped-up  shop,  and  then  be  obliged 
to  take  a  part  of  his  small  earnings  to  feed  and 
lodge  a  lazy  fellow  who  has  been  tying  under  a 
hedge  till  sundown,  and  who  will  break  into  his  house, 
and  steal  his  goods,  and  murder  his  wife,  if  he  gets 
the  chance  or  the  provocation.  Responsibility  implies 
authority.  As  long  as  a  man  is  obliged  to  support  his 
children,  he  has  authority  over  his  children.  If  a 
grown  man  is  not  self-supporting,  he  should  not  be 
self-directing.  Some  towns  have  borne  all  the  burden 
they  feel  disposed  to  bear,  and  are  arresting  tramps  in 
all  directions,  determined  to  test  their  liabilities.  Pub- 
lic sentiment  will  doubtless  approve  their  course  ;  but, 


OUR  CHARITIES.  113 

unless  public  sentiment  formulates  itself  in  common 
law,  these  local  measures  will  but  increase  local  dis- 
tress. If  one  village,  by  village  law,  arrests  tramps, 
and  the  next  village  does  not,  the  second  village  will 
be  but  a  receiving-tomb  for  the  decayed  humanity  of 
the  first.  These  vermin,  driven  out  of  the  one  town, 
will  take  refuge  in  the  next ;  and  the  last  state  of  that 
town  shall  be  worse  than  its  first.  It  should  be  a  rec- 
ognized State  law,  if  it  be  not  now,  that  any  person 
asking  alms  from  door  to  door  thereby  forfeits  his 
liberty.  In  surrendering  the  self-support  of  manhood, 
he  surrenders  also  its  self-control.  The  community 
that  feeds  him  shall  restrain  him.  If  he  will  eat  the 
bread  of  beggary,  it  shall  be  behind  a  barred  gate. 
He  shall  not  walk  up  and  down,  seeking  what  and 
whom  he  may  devour ;  but  he  shall  have  keepers,  and 
be  made  to  work :  he  shall  lie  down,  and  rise  up,  and 
march  to  table  and  field  and  workshop,  at  the  voice  of 
the  bell.  He  shall  have  abundance  of  wholesome  food, 
but  no  squash  pie  to  bespatter  stone  fences  withal ! 
He  shall  not  batten  longer  on  the  toils  of  honest  men ; 
but  he  shall  eat  his  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  own  fat 
face  ;  and  the  only  difference  between,  his  fate  and  that 
of  his  thrift}'  brother  shall  be,  that,  while  the  latter 
goes  home  to  wife  and  child,  and  vine  and  fig-tree,  the 
former  shall  have  neither  ownership  nor  accumulation. 
If  a  man  find  that  he  must  work  as  hard  for  bare  walls 
10* 


114  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and  coarse  food  as  for  home  and  family,  and  all  social 
solace  and  standing,  it  would  be  but  an  evil  choice  for 
him  to  make.  Let  us  take  off  the  premium  from  vaga- 
bondage ;  let  us  make  the  tramp's  life  as  stern  and 
severe  as  that  of  the  honest  citizen ;  let  society  close 
upon  him,  short,  sharp,  and  decisive,  and  either  make 
a  spoon,  or  spoil  a  horn. 

All  of  which  does  not  mean  that  the  honest  and 
industrious  but  unfortunate  laboring-man  out  of 
employment  shall  be  treated  as  a  tramp,  or  that  the 
tramp  shall  not  be  considered  as  "a  man  and  a 
brother."  Constraint  and  labor  are  means  of  grace  to 
the  man  who  spurns  both,  and  preys  upon  his  neigh- 
bors ;  while  the  honest  man  out  of  work  has  no  worse 
foe  than  these  lazzaroni,  who  drain  a  communitj^  of  the 
sympathy  and  succor  which  ought  to  be  bestowed  upon 
those  who  need  help,  but  not  alms. 

Physicians  tell  us  that  the  great  stone  hospitals  on 
which  we  latter-day  saints  pride  ourselves,  as  embodying 
the  last  results  of  sanitary  science,  are,  of  all  estab- 
lishments, the  most  pernicious.  The  seeds  of  disease 
are  sown  in  them  from  year  to  year,  and  are  ever 
springing  up  in  a  fatal  harvest.  With  all  our  knowledge 
and  all  our  money,  the  best  kind  of  hospital  is  the 
cheap  wooden  barrack,  which  can  be  torn  down  every 
three  years,  and  thus  prevent  the  storing-up  and  dis- 
tribution of  disease,  to  which  the  enduring  stone  build- 


OUR  CnARITIES.  115 

ing  is  always  liable.  Is  it  not  possible  that  some 
similar  necessity  exists  with  regard  to  our  great  char- 
itable institutions  ? 

There  are  soldiers'  homes  scattered  over  the  land. 
This  is  a  form  of  charity  as  little  offensive  as  it  is 
possible  for  charity  to  be.  Indeed,  I  do  not  know  that 
it  should  be  called  charity  at  all.  Surely,  if  debt  can 
exist  between  man  and  man,  it  is  incurred  by  the 
nation  toward  those  who  have  perilled  life  and  limb  in 
her  behalf.  So  the  nation  does  well  to  provide  a  home 
for  disabled  soldiers.  She  rears  a  lofty  and  imposing 
structure,  laj^s  out  grounds  with  taste  and  elegance, 
keeps  every  thing  in  admirable  order,  receives  all  poor 
and  wounded  and  invalid  soldiers  who  knock  at  her 
door,  feeds  them,  clothes  them  if  need  be,  furnishes 
them  pension  for  pocket-money,  lays  them  under  no 
grievous  restriction,  and  imposes  no  labor.  If  you 
drive  to  their  retreat,  you  see  them  sauntering  along 
the  gravelled  walks,  reclining  under  the  trees,  lounging 
upon  the  piazza,  or  perhaps  engaged  in  some  light 
work.  But,  after  all,  it  is  a  most  drearjr  place,  —  a 
mockery  of  home.  You  are  struck  by  the  absence  of 
life.  There  is  no  interest,  no  animation,  no  vitality. 
All  is  lounging  and  listlessness.  I  have  been  told  that 
soldiers  enter  these  homes  with  reluctance,  and  leave 
them  with  alacrit}-.  There  is  no  complaint  of  ill-treat- 
ment, insufficient  food  or  care :  it  is  simply  that  their 


116  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

dreariness  is  insupportable.  Can  we  wonder  at  it? 
Think  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  men  living  together  in  a 
perfectly  comfortable  house,  with  nothing  to  do  !  They 
have  no  care,  no  responsibility,  no  occupation,  no  soci- 
ety but  each  other.  As  soldiers,  they  have  had  stir- 
ring, active,  eventful  lives.  Doubtless,  at  first,  the 
quiet,  the  rest,  is  delightful ;  but  when  wounds  are 
healed,  and  life  flows  once  more  in  all  the  channels  that 
are  left,  how  these  human  hearts  must  long  for  the 
variet}T,  and  even  for  the  vexations,  of  humanity,  for 
the  activities  of  manhood,  the  attraction  of  woman- 
hood, the  amusement  of  childhood !  In  every  estab- 
lishment, ought  we  not  to  take  the  family  as  the  model  ? 
So  far  as  our  institutions  depart  from  the  family  t}-pe, 
are  they  not  on  a  wrong  principle  ?  Is  it  practicable  ? 
And,  if  practicable,  is  it  not  better  that  the  fifty 
soldiers  should  be  distributed  through  the  community, 
to  live  in,  and  become  a  part  of,  separate  homes,  rather 
than  live  together  in  a  monotonous  and  unnatural  club  ? 
They  need  not  be  "  town-poor,"  but  national  pen- 
sioners, honorable,  though  dependent ;  receiving  their 
support  from  the  country,  not  as  a  gratuity,  but  as 
some  attempt  at  an  equivalent  for  services  rendered. 
Many,  perhaps  most,  of  them,  though  partially  dis- 
abled, are  not  incapacitated  for  light  labor,  and  would 
be  all  the  healthier  and  happier  for  its  performance. 
They  may  not  be  able  to  do  man's  work;  but  they 


OUR  CHARITIES.  117 

could  be  exceedingly  useful  in  doing  what  is  too  often 
added  to  woman's  work.  There  are  thousands  of 
farmhouses  where  these  men  could  amply  pay  their 
board  by  doing  u  chores  "  that  now  fall  to  the  lot  of 
overworked  women.  Many  families  who  could  not 
endure  the  incumbrance  of  a  boarder,  nor  afford  the 
outlay  of  hired  service,  would  be  greatly  relieved  by 
such  an  addition  to  their  staff.  The  man  would  quickly 
work  into  a  pleasant  and  profitable  position,  and  join 
in  the  wholesome  life  from  which  the  far  more  splendid 
surroundings  of  the  home  completely  shut  him  out. 
It  may  not  be  immediately  nor  entirely  practicable ; 
but  can  we  not  hold  this  end  in  view  ? 

There  is  an  insurmountable  repugnance  in  the  minds 
of  many  poor  people  to  technical  places  of  refuge.  It 
is  not  independence ;  for  they  will  receive  without 
flinching,  in  their  own  miserable  homes,  an  amount  of 
assistance  at  a  cost  of  trouble,  thought,  and  care  far 
greater  than  would  be  necessary  to  support  them  com- 
fortably at  the  poor-house,  or,  as  we  have  taken  to 
calling  it,  the  "  home  ;  "  though  we  do  not  succeed  by 
our  euphuisms  in  deceiving  our  victims,  who  draw 
back  from  the  "  home  "  as  decidedly  as  from  the  poor- 
house.  We  are  at  great  expense  to  provide  an  asylum 
for  old  men,  a  home  for  aged  and  indigent  females ; 
and  the  old  men  throw  their  cane  at  you,  if  you  propose 
to  take  them  there  ;  and  the  aged  and  indigent  females 


118  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

grow  young  and  rich  in  the  vocabulary  wherewithal 
they  declare  their  determination  not  to  go.  This 
means  something.  Of  course,  we  can  make  them 
go  if  we  choose.  Society  is  a  giant,  and  can  use  its 
strength  giant-wise,  to  be  strong  against  the  weak. 
But  it  is  not  pleasant,  even  when  it  is  necessary :  how 
much  less  when  it  is  not  certainly  necessary  !  Perhaps 
the  weak  are  right,  and,  haply,  we  shall  be  found  to 
fight  against  God.  Instead,  then,  of  giving  all  our 
energies  to  the  preparation  of  a  house,  why  not  devote 
a  part  to  the  accumulation  of  a  fund  whereby  these 
poor,  who  so  profoundly  dislike  the  more  public  forms 
of  charity,  may  be  supported  in  private  homes  ?  There 
are  many  families  whose  income  would  be  materially 
improved  by  the  small  sum  which  would  be  payed  for 
the  support  of  a  woman  incapable  of  self-support,  but 
not  needing  any  especial  care  or  nursing.  A  board  of 
overseers,  or  a  ladies'  committee,  could  still  supervise 
affairs,  keep  track  of  all  its  beneficiaries,  watch  over 
their  interests,  look  out  for  their  comfort.  And  the 
old  ladies  themselves  would  often  be  far  happier  in  the 
humble  but  more  cosey,  more  sociable,  more  natural, 
if  more  narrow,  home,  than  in  the  spacious,  abundant, 
but  public  and  unfamiliar  "  refuge."  Beggars  should 
not  be  choosers  perhaps :  still,  if  we  give,  we  may 
well  give  wisely.  The  poor  may  be  unreasonable ; 
and  their  poverty  is  often  their  own  fault.     But,  after 


OUR  CHARITIES.  119 

all,  we  would  a  thousand  times  rather  be  ourselves, 
with  the  annoyance  of  their  unreasonableness,  than  to 
be  the  poor,  with  all  their  dictation.  In  the  general 
distribution  of  traits,  we  are  glad  those  fell  to  our 
share  which  enabled  us  to  be  independent,  though  at 
the  cost  of  much  hard  work  and  self-denial.  We  are 
thankful  that  we  can  work,  that  we  can  turn  away 
from  the  present  pleasure  to  avert  the  future  disaster. 
I  would  make  pauperism  as  odious  as  possible  ;  but 
I  would  make  the  helpless  victims  of  pauperism  as 
happy  as  possible.  We  cannot  be  too  careful  not  to 
loosen  the  foundations  of  self-respect,  not  to  make  it 
seem  easy  and  pleasant  and  natural  to  depend  upon 
others,  instead  of  helping  one's  self,  not  to  make  this 
false  life  of  leaning  too  closely  resemble  the  true  life 
of  uprightness.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  so 
much  wretched  dependence  springing  from  age,  sex, 
infirmity,  calamity,  the  error  and  the  crime  of  other 
people,  that  one  cannot  be  too  careful  in  applying  even 
just  rules,  —  too  gentle,  too  wise,  too  considerate  in 
guarding  from  additional  pain  those  who  are  already 
sore  wounded  and  vanquished  in  life's  hot  battle. 

If  our  modes  of  disbursing  our  charity  funds  need 
to  be  carefully  looked  into,  so,  also,  do  our  modes  of 
gathering  those  funds.  The  old  type  ideal  of  charity 
is  a  quiet,  modest,  retiring,  and  gracious  lady,  search- 
ing out  the  abodes  of  suffering,  ministering  to  the  sick, 


120  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

teaching  the  ignorant,  giving  of  her  substance,  but 
always  unobtrusive,  never  letting  the  left  hand  know 
what  the  right  hand  doeth.  The  real  Lady  Charity 
seemeth  to  be  somewhat  of  a  brazen  dame,  sedulously 
seeking  her  own  pleasure  in  the  name  of  the  poor. 
She  institutes  a  charity  ball,  whither  she  goes  dressed 
in  all  the  silk  and  lace  and  jewelry  of  luxury,  or, 
worse  still,  in  calico  fashioned  in  such  fantastic  shapes, 
that  neither  rich  nor  poor  can  make  any  use  of  it  after- 
wards. She  dances  all  night ;  she  devours  creams  and 
cakes,  salads  and  coffee  ;  she  breathes  the  fragrance 
of  flowers,  and  moves  to  the  music  of  a  band,  and  in 
all  things  disports  herself  like  a  lady  bent  on  her  own 
amusement ;  and  is  altogether  satisfied  and  satisfactory 
because  it  is  a  charity  ball.  The  few  hundreds  that 
majr  be  left  after  the  thousands  are  paid  out  for  dress 
and  flowers,  and  lights  and  music,  and  supper  and 
hall  and  carriages  and  attendance,  are  given  to  the 
poor  ; .  but  charity  has  only  the  crumbs  that  fell  from 
the  table.  The  table  itself — the  bulk  of  the  expense 
and  the  effort  —  was  in  the  entertainment.  I  do  not 
say  there  is  any  thing  wrong  in  this,  except  the  name. 
If  persons  find  their  account  in  weeks  of  preparation, 
and  much  sounding  of  the  tocsin,  and  soliciting  of 
patronage,  for  the  sake  of  an  evening's  pleasure,  who 
shall  gainsay  them?  Doubtless  there  are  some,  perhaps 
the  originators  and  organizers  of  the  ball,  to  whom 


OUR   CHARITIES.  121 

it  is  really  a  labor  of  love ;  but,  in  all  its  length  and 
breadth,  let  us  not  call  it  charity.  To  the  deserv- 
ing and  suffering  poor,  to  the  invalids,  the  widowed, 
the  orphan,  who  know  not  to-day  what  they  shall  eat 
on  the  morrow,  it  must  be  a  strange  sight  indeed,  — 
this  of  men  and  women  rushing  together  to  expend  on 
a  single  evening's  gratification  for  themselves,  and  in 
various  forms  of  luxury,  an  enormous  sum  of  money  in 
order  that  a  small  sum  may  slip  through  into  the  out- 
stretched hands  of  want.  If,  indeed,  the  small  dole 
can  be  entreated  from  the  rich  in  no  other  way  than  by 
bribing  them  with  a  fete  for  themselves  ;  if  the  pleasure 
of  blessing  be  not  enough,  but  must  be  sweetened  with 
the  pleasure  of  receiving  ;  if  giving  have  no  grace,  and 
money  must  bring  to  the  donor  money's  worth  in  mar- 
ketable values,  —  then,  perhaps,  we  do  well  to  make  a 
feast,  and  call  in  the  rich  and  prosperous  to  make 
crumbs  for  the  poor  and  the  maimed,  the  halt  and  the 
blind  ;  but  this  is  not  charity.  When  the  Philistines 
ask,  * '  What  meaneth  the  noise  of  this  great  shouting 
in  the  camp?  "  let  no  man  have  the  effrontery  to  say, 
4 '  It  is  because  the  ark  of  the  Lord  has  come  in."  It  is 
far  more  like  the  song  of  the  worship  of  the  golden  ear- 
rings. Nine  parts  self-indulgence,  and  one  part  charity, 
may  not  be  an  iniquitous  compound  ;  but  it  is  certainly 
not  the  elixir  of  life.  The  clangor  of  our  benefactions 
does  not  mark  their  increase,  but  their  diminution. 
11 


122  SERMONS   TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

In  connection  with  this  public  hue  and  cry  comes  a 
spirit  of  dictation,  a  virtual  coercion,  which  it  seems 
offensive  to  resist,  and  hypocritical  to  accept.  It  is  to 
be  expected,  that,  in  the  rattle  and  clatter  of  machin- 
ery, all  the  ancient  delicacy  of  charit}^,  both  on  the 
part  of  giver  and  receiver,  should  fade  awa}T.  When 
men  scatter  their  largesses  from  the  housetops,  with 
bells  ringing,  and  flags  floating,  they  lose  every  pretext 
for  blushing  to  find  it  fame.  They  are  far  more 
likely  to  redden  with  rage,  if  they  do  not  find  it  fame. 
We  appeal  for  charity,  not  to  the  necessity  of  the 
case,  to  the  conscience  or  the  pity  of  the  beholder,  but 
to  his  vanity,  his  pride,  his  self-interest.  A  church 
debt  is  auctioneered  from  the  pulpit  on  Sunday.  ' '  I 
will  give  a  thousand  dollars,"  says  A  to  B,  "if  you 
will  give  a  thousand  dollars. "  But  what  has  A's 
purse  to  do  with  B's  ?  If  the  case  is  a  worth}7  one,  or, 
in  any  case,  why  should  one  man's  help  be  conditioned 
on  another  man's?  A  knows,  or  ought  to  know,  the 
condition  of  his  own  finances.  He  knows  nothing  of 
B's.  If  he  can  give  a  thousand  dollars,  let  him  give 
it.  He  has  no  right  to  dictate  the  direction,  or  the 
amount,  of  B's  gifts,  or  to  subject  him  to  the  necessity 
of  refusing,  or  of  giving  reluctantly.  Benevolence  is 
no  justification  of  impertinence.  What  is  ill  bred  and 
improper,  dictatorial  and  rude,  does  not  become  polite 
and  gentle  and  Christian,  because  it  is  done  in  the 


OUR  CHARITIES.  123 

name  of  charit}r.  There  are  some  forms  of  charity 
which  seem  to  do  more  harm  to  the  soul  than  good 
to  the  body.  They  injure  the  manners  of  the  givers 
more  than  they  benefit  the  lives  of  the  receivers.  All 
such  charity  is  suspicious.  The  true  charity  blesses 
him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes.  The  true  charity 
is  as  strong  in  its  reflex  as  in  its  direct  influence.  It 
shines  all  around,  and  not  in  one  straight  line  alone. 
It  is  marked  by  the  most  instinctive  reticence,  and  a 
constant  courtesy  of  demeanor.  It  represses  the 
forward,  and  encourages  the  timid,  and  respects  the 
self-respectful,  and  tries  to  infuse  into  the  shameless 
a  sense  of  shame.  It  reverences  the  dignity  of 
humanit}-,  and  the  rights  of  the  individual,  and  never 
encroaches  upon  the  poor  or  the  rich.  It  assumes 
no  power  of  inquisition  into  the  lowliest  cottage, 
the  shabbiest  hut,  any  more  or  any  less  than  into  the 
houses  of  the  great  and  strong.  It  is  not  bars,  or  bolts, 
or  servants,  or  force,  that  guide  or  guard  its  entrance 
an}' where,  but  its  own  innate,  unerring,  ever  sinuous 
sense  of  propriety.  And,  while  it  is  thus  cautious  of 
imposing  itself  on  the  reluctant,  it  is  equally  solicitous 
to  win  the  confidence  of  the  silent  and  forlorn.  It 
aims  to  do  good,  rather  than  to  excite  gratitude ;  to 
give  the  feeble  a  start,  rather  than  to  make  a  stir  in 
society.  It  would  rather  help  a  man  to  help  himself 
than  to  make  his  own  exertions  unnecessary. 


124  SERMONS  TO   TT1E  CLERGY. 

I  believe  we  are  mistaken  in  supposing  that  this 
kind  of  charity  would  be  less  heartily  supported  than 
the  festive,  luxuriant,  and  selfish  charity.  Men  may 
be  reluctant  to  put  a  new  carpet  on  the  parish  church ; 
and  it  may  be  necessary  to  cajole  them  with  a  tea- 
party.  But,  towards  human  want,  human  nature  is 
apt  to  be  generous.  The  carpet  is  not  a  necessity. 
But  men  will  not  willingly  let  a  family  suffer  for  want 
of  food.  I  do  not  believe  the  community  exists  in 
America,  that  is  not  willing  and  able  to  provide  for  all 
its  needy  without  an  atom  of  fanfaronade.  When 
Portland  and  Peshtigo  and  Chicago  are  burned,  and 
Louisiana  drowned,  and  the  valleys  of  our  own  New 
England  overswept  by  sudden  desolation,  there  is  no 
waiting  for  balls  and  theatres.  The  money  does  not 
wind  through  fairs  and  fashions,  diminishing  as  it  goes, 
to  fall,  at  last,  a  feeble,  and  sluggish  stream,  into  a 
thirsty  soil  that  drinks  it  up,  and  gives  no  sign.  It 
rushes  straight  from  purse  and  till,  —  an  impetuous, 
sustaining,  and  sufficient  flood.  Great  occasions 
bring  great  enthusiasms  ;  and,  for  ordinary  occasions, 
the  enthusiasm  of  humanity  is  enough.  If  wisely 
appealed  to,  it  seldom  fails  to  respond.  The  beating 
of  gongs  is  as  unnecessa^  to  secure  the  desired  ends 
as  it  is  offensive  to  good  taste,  and  obnoxious  to  good 
manners.  A  charity  that  is  indelicate  in  its  methods 
is  a  proper  object  of  suspicion.     So  far  as  possible, 


OUR  CHARITIES.  125 

all  the  processes,  and  all  the  recipients,  of  charity, 
should  be  guarded  by  a  profound  and  sacred  privacy, 
that  self-respect  be  not  wounded,  character  injured, 
nor  truth  destroyed. 

Miss  Cushman,  with  characteristic  independence, 
good  sense,  and  good  feeling,  has  entered  a  protest 
against  this  system.  The  occasion  was  a  request, 
which  had  been  made,  that  she  would  give  a  gratuitous 
representation  for  the  benefit  of  local  charities  in,  let  us 
say,  Venice.  In  response  to  this  protest,  one  of  her 
rejected  addressers  says,  "No  actress  in  the  country 
has  been  more  generously  and  heartily  rewarded  in 
Venice  than  Miss  Cushman.  She  has  always  been 
a  favorite  here,  and  been  alwa}-s  treated  with  uniform 
courtesy  and  kindness.  We  will  not  say  that  she  has 
not,  in  a  measure,  by  her  genius  commanded  all  that 
has  been  accorded  to  her :  but,  at  the  same  time,  we 
believe  that  there  are  certain  relations  of  good-will  and 
friendship  which  should  always  exist  between  actors 
and  the  public  ;  and  that,  if  any  one  in  the  country  in 
her  profession  is  under  obligations  to  a  community, 
Miss  Cushman  is  to  Venice." 

All  of  which  may  be  true,  without,  in  the  smallest 
degree,  militating  against  Miss  Cushman's  position,  that 
she  is  under  no  "  especial"  obligations  to  any  commu- 
nity in  which  she  does  not  live.  The  people  who  go  to 
theatres  and  concerts,  who  biry  bonnets  and  gowns  and 
11* 


126  SERMONS  TO   TEE   CLERGY. 

shoes  and  sugar,  are  often  spoken  of  as  patrons  of  the 
singers  and  pla}rers  and  grocers  and  milliners  ;  and  so 
they  are,  but  no  more  so  than  are  the  grocers  and  mil- 
liners the  patrons  of  those  who  buy  their  goods.  You 
go  to  the  theatre  for  your  own  amusement,  and  not  in 
the  least  to  oblige  Miss  Cushman,  or  Mr.  Jefferson,  or 
Mr.  Boucicault.  If  they  play  well  enough  to  please, 
3tou  go  again :  if  they  do  not,  you  stay  away,  regard- 
less of  their  feelings  or  their  purses.  If  they  play  so 
well,  that  high  admission-fees  may  be  profitably  charged, 
you  pay  the  high  admission-fee,  still  not  in  the  least  to 
profit  Miss  Cushman  or  Mr.  Boucicault,  but  because 
you  cannot  get  in  on  a  small  fee.  No  one  thinks  of 
patronizing  an  inferior  actor  from  motives  of  benevo- 
lence ;  and  it  is  pure  absurdity  to  say  that  one  is  actu- 
ated by  benevolence  in  ending  the  personations  of  a 
master  of  his  art.  Wiry,  then,  should  an  actor  be 
obliged  to  }tou  for  pleasing  yourself  ?  Why  should 
the  shoemaker  be  obliged  to  you  for  the  money  whose 
lack  would  make  him  less  uncomfortable  than  you 
would  be  in  going  barefoot?  If  there  is  any  obliga- 
tion, it  is  as  much  on  the  one  side  as  on  the  other. 
Venice  is  just  as  much  bound  to  help  Miss  Cushman' s 
charities  as  is  Miss  Cushman  to  help  Venice.  The 
family  ought  to  be  quite  as  grateful  to  the  butcher  and 
grocer  and  milkman  who  feed  it,  as  ought  they  to  be 
to  the  family  which  pays  them  money.     But  did  Miss 


OUR  CHARITIES.  127 

Cushman  ever  imply  that  Venice  owed  lief  any  thing? 
or  did  Venice  ever  recognize  any  such  relation  ?  She 
is  reported  to  have  met  with  much  pecuniary  and  other 
trouble.  Did  Venice  ever  concern  itself  to  ascertain, 
remove,  or  relieve  these  troubles  ?  Did  it  ever  make 
any  inquiries  as  to  Miss  Cushman' s  necessities,  or 
pensioners,  and  ask  to  bear  a  part  of  her  burdens?  I 
have  pushed  no  researches  on  the  subject,  and,  of  tes- 
timony, know  nothing  whatever  about  it ;  but  I  hazard 
the  assertion,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  that,  what- 
ever of  trouble  Miss  Cushman  may  have  met,  she  has 
encountered  it  without  asking  or  thinking  of  help  from 
Venice ;  that  her  connection  with  the  city  has  been 
purely  one  of  business  ;  and  that  whatever  money  she 
has  received  has  been  in  exchange  for  goods  sold  at 
their  market-value.  At  the  same  time,  such  are  "  the 
relations  of  good- will  and  friendship  "  existing  be- 
tween her  and  the  Venice  public,  that  if,  by  some  sud- 
den turn  of  the  wheel  of  fortune,  she  should  be  known 
to  be  ill,  destitute,  and  suffering,  Venice,  no  doubt, 
would  take  up  a  generous  contribution,  and  send  it 
to  her  with  such  warm  admiration  and  delicacy  as 
would  fill  her  with  rejoicing.  So,  I  doubt  not,  if 
Venice  were  suddenly  smitten  with  overwhelming  dis- 
aster of  fire  or  flood,  Miss  Cushman,  with  her  great 
generous  heart,  would  give  abundantly  for  its  relief. 
Great  emergencies  bring  "  especial"  claims;  but  that 


128  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Miss  Cushman  should  come  down  from  Boston,  or  that 
Venice  should  go  up  to  New  England,  to  help  out  the 
ordinary  duties  of  ever3T-da}r  life  is  —  not  reasonable. 

"  There  is  another  point  in  this  five-hundred-dollar- 
a-night  business,"  says  the  disappointed  applicant. 
"Does  Miss  Cushman  really  think  that  she  earns  it? 
She  gets  it ;  but  we  beg  to  remind  her  that  she  wrings 
it  out  of  the  managers,  under  the  villanous  '  star '  sys- 
tem, and  at  the  expense  of  the  poor  and  humble  in  her 
own  profession,  who,  in  a  large  degree,  contribute  to  her 
success,  and  who  are  not  paid  as  much  in  a  year  as 
she  is  paid  in  almost  a  single  night.  She  enforces  her 
five  hundred  dollars  a  night,  demands  her  pound  of 
flesh ;  and  they  must  take  what  they  can  get.  Miss 
Cushman  looks  at  the  matter  from  a  thoroughly  selfish, 
heartless  standpoint." 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  crowd  more  erring  philoso- 
phy into  a  single  pronunciamento.  Miss  Cushman, 
doubtless,  being  a  woman  of  unusual  grandeur  of 
character,  looks  at  her  business-engagements  from  a 
thoroughly  business  standpoint ;  and  business  is  and 
ought  ever  to  be  thoroughly  heartless  and  selfish.  To 
make  it  an}r  thing  else  is  to  embroil  and  despoil  it. 
To  mix  sentiment  with  business  is  to  profane  the  one, 
and  to  demoralize  the  other.  But  business  is  heartless 
and  selfish  etymologically,  not  morally.  It  is  heartless 
precisely  as  mathematics  is  heartless.     You  might  as 


OUR   CHARITIES.  129 

well  blame  a  problem  in  Euclid  for  its  lack  of  pity,  as 
to  blame  business  for  a  similar  deficiency.  The  one 
principle  of  business  is  to  buy  in  the  cheapest,  and  sell 
in  the  dearest,  market ;  and  it  is  a  thoroughly  just 
and  legitimate  principle,  and  thoroughly  compatible 
with  generosit}7  and  magnanimity  in  the  man  who  acts 
upon  it.  Indeed,  there  is  no  other  principle  on  which 
business  could  be  successfully  and  satisfactorily  con- 
ducted. 

Miss  Cushman,  in  demanding  five  hundred  dollars  a 
night,  is  but  doing  what  every  merchant  does  in  de- 
manding an  extraordinary  price  for  an  extraordinary 
piece  of  Gobelin  tapestry  ;  or  a  milliner  of  rare  skill,  in 
charging  high  prices  for  her  bonnets  ;  or  Mr.  Evarts,  in 
taking  a  ten-thousand-dollar  fee  in  one  lawsuit ;  or  Mr. 
Beecher,  in  receiving  his  twenty-or-so-thousand  dollar 
salary.  Does  Mr.  Evarts  imagine  he  earns  his  enor- 
mous retainer  ?  He  gets  it ;  but  we  beg  to  remind  him 
that  he  wrings  it  out  of  his  clients,  and  at  the  expense 
of  the  poor  and  humble  of  his  own  profession,  who  are 
not  paid  as  much  in  a  lifetime,  perhaps,  as  he  is  paid 
in  a  single  month.  Mr.  Evarts  enforces  his  pound  of 
flesh  ;  and  the  poor  pettifogger  must  take  what  he  can 
get! 

You  might  just  as  well  reproach  a  diamond  for  cost- 
ing more  than  a  Scotch  pebble  as  to  blame  Miss  Cush- 
man or  Mr.  Evarts  for  being  more  expensive  than  their 


130  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

"  supes."  We  pay  for  things  in  proportion  to  their 
rarity  and  to  the  pleasure  the}'  give  us.  The  "  star" 
system  may  be  vile  ;  but,  when  it  is  superseded,  it  will 
not  be  because  it  is  vile,  but  because  it  is  unprofitable. 
Miss  Cushman's  high  demands  not  only  injure  no  one, 
but  benefit  many.  The  managers,  on  the  whole,  find 
it  for  their  interest  to  be  wrung  out  by  Charlotte  Cush- 
man  rather  than  cast  their  play  without  her.  No  one 
forces  them  to  employ  her.  It  is  only,  that,  if  the}'  do 
employ  her,  they  must  pay  her  price.  So  far  from 
injuring  the  poor  and  humble  of  her  own  profession,  it 
is  she,  and  such  as  she,  who  give  them  any  profession 
at  all.  Who  would  go  to  a  theatre  to  see  the  pitiful 
mouthing  and  ranting  and  strutting,  the  wooden, 
lifeless  performances,  of  the  lower  class  of  actors? 
"  Can't  you  say  it  so?"  said  Edwin  Forrest,  instruct- 
ing one  of  his  "  supports."  "  Confound  you  !  "  cried 
the  poor  fellow,  in  admiring  despair,  "  if  I  could  say 
it  so,  do  you  think  I  would  be  pegging  away  here  at 
ten  dollars  a  week  !  "  It  is  because  Forrest  can  "  say 
it  so,"  that  we  listen  patiently  to  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry  all  around  him,  saying  things  in  quite  another 
way.  Miss  Cushman  is  far  more  necessary  to  her 
poor  supporters  than  they  are  to  her.  When  she  reads 
absolutely  alone,  she  draws  crowded  houses.  How 
many  crowds  would  they  draw  without  the  allurement 
of  any  superior  talent? 


OUR   CHARITIES.  131 

Miss  Cushman,  in  enforcing  high  prices  for  her  per- 
formances, is  doing  more  for  her  sex  and  her  profes- 
sion than  she  can  do  in  any  other  way.  No  one  can 
excel  in  any  calling  without  diffusing  the  benefit  of  it 
down  through  the  very  lowest  stratum  of  that  calling. 
His  genius  and  skill  raise  the  average,  help  to  make 
the  calling  honorable.  It  goes  much  "  against  the 
grain ' '  to  pay  twenty  dollars  for  a  bonnet  whose  ma- 
terial cost  five  dollars  ;  but  the  milliner  has  a  perfect 
right  to  charge  fifteen  for  her  skill  and  taste.  She  may 
overshoot  the  mark ;  and  the  just  result  is,  that  her 
bonnets  are  not  sold.  But  these  things  arrange  them- 
selves on  the  everlasting  principle  of  supply  and  de- 
mand. It  may  be  very  sad  that  the  poor  sewing-girl 
gets  but  starvation  wages,  while  the  mistress  grows 
rich.  But  poor  sewing  is  as  the  sands  of  the  sea  for 
multitude ;  and  artistic  sewing  is  like  the  diamonds 
of  Golconda.  Moreover,  every  new  prime  sewer  and 
fashioner  creates  a  demand  which  gives  employment  to 
the  poor  and  plodding.  The  "  star  "  has  given  to  its 
brilliancy  care,  time,  and  culture,  of  which  the  clod 
knows  nothing,  and  for  lack  of  which  it  has  only  itself 
to  blame.  But  also  the  "star"  had  an  original  en- 
dowment denied  to  the  clod,  for  which  the  clod  is  not 
to  blame  ;  but  neither  is  the  "  star."  Is  there  wrong 
with  the  Most  High? 

Since  writing  this,  a  remarkably  apt  illustration  has 


132         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

been  given  of  the  obligations  which  Venice  considers 
due  from  the  public  toward  those  actors  who  have. 
entertained  it,  whatever  its  views  may  be  of  the  obli- 
gations of  actors  to  the  public.  Mr.  J.  M.  Bellow, 
the  reader,  being  sick  and  poor,  has  applied  for  help 
to  the  public.  Venice  says,  through  her  press,  that  he 
"  is  certainly  the  most  genteel  beggar  that  has  jret 
appeared.  Being  sick,  and  nearly  out  of  funds,  he 
sends  telegrams  all  over  the  world,  stating  that  he  has 
no  prospects  of  getting  better  very  soon,  and  would  be 
thankful  for  an}'  assistance  that  may  be  rendered  him. 
"Who  wouldn't  feel  overjoyed  at  receiving  aid  and 
succor  through  such  novel  means?  In  case  the  re- 
sponses are  heavy  and  full,  we  would  advise  Mr.  Bel- 
lew  to  engage  a  clerk  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of 
remittances.  There  are  plenty  of  young  men  out  of 
employment  in  England  who  would  be  glad  to  secure 
such  a  position." 

I  do  not  see  why  it  was  a  more  genteel  beggary  for 
Mr.  Bellew  to  telegraph  to  the  world  for  charity  than 
it  was  for  Venice  to  telegraph  to  Miss  Cushman.  Cer- 
tainly her  response  was  not  half  so  scornful,  and,  I 
suspect,  not  more  unproductive. 

When  Miss  Cushman  said,  "  You  simply  ask  of  me 
that  I  should  give  from  four  hundred  dollars  to  five 
hundred  dollars  to  3-our  poor,"  the  seeker  replies, 
' '  We  did  not  ask  Miss  Cushman  to  do  any  thing  of 


OUR   CHARITIES.  133 

the  kind.  We  asked  her  if  she  would  give  an  extra 
performance,  and  did  not  propose  to  interfere  in  any 
way  with  her  regular  engagements.  .  .  .  Perhaps  she 
is  right,  and  that  we  were  wrong,  in  asking  her  to  give 
a  few  hours  of  her  time  to  a  charitable  object." 

This  illustrates  a  very  common  mistake  made  by 
persons  in  whom  goodness  of  heart,  let  us  say,  out- 
strips clearness  of  head.  They  have  a  certain  desira- 
ble object  in  view ;  and,  to  promote  it,  they  will,  with 
the  most  cheerful  and  unhesitating  frankness,  ask  you 
to  give,  not  money  (they  would  shrink  from  that), 
but  things  which  represent  money  to  j'ou,  which  bring 
money  to  you,  and  which  will  bring  money  to  them  — 
and  think  they  are  doing  the  whole  duty  of  etiquette. 
Ask  Miss  Cushman  to  give  us  five  hundred  dollars  ? 
Not  we  !  We  simply  ask  her  to  give  a  representation 
which  alwajrs  brings  her  five  hundred  dollars,  and  to 
hand  over  the  proceeds  to  us,  instead  of  putting  them 
into  her  own  purse.  Ask  her  for  money?  Nothing 
was  further  from  our  thoughts  !  We  did  but  ask  a  few 
hours  of  her  time.  Ask  her  to  give  us  one  of  her 
regular  engagements,  and  so  diminish  her  income? 
Not  in  the  least !  We  did  not  interfere  with  her  regu- 
lar engagements,  but  desired  her  to  grant  an  extra 
performance. 

But  lives  there  a  man  with  soul  so  keen  as  can 
explain  the  difference  between  five  hundred  dollars  in 


134         SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

money  at  high  noon  and  a  performance  that  brings  five 
hundred  dollars  before  midnight?  What  is  the  saving 
clause  that  makes  a  regular  performance  a  part  of 
your  income,  and  an  extra  performance  no  income 
whatever?  An  actor,  during  the  season,  makes,  un- 
doubtedly, as  many  engagements  as  his  nerve  and  the 
public  purse  will  stand.  If  an  extra  one  comes  in,  he 
must  make  extra  outlay  of  personal  power,  or  with- 
draw an  engagement  elsewhere.  But,  however  that 
may  be,  if  he  can  earn  the  money,  the  money  is  his ; 
and,  if  it  is  bestowed  upon  the  poor,  he  bestows  it,  and 
nobody  else. 

I  say  nothing  of  the  nature  of  the  actor's  calling, 
since  it  has  no  bearing  on  the  case.  We  may  approve, 
or  disapprove,  of  theatrical  representation.  If  we  dis- 
approve, the  impropriety  is  even  stronger  than  if  we 
approve.  It  is  bad  enough  to  make  unwarrantable 
claims  upon  money  honestly  and  honorably  earned ; 
but  it  is  startling  indeed,  if  we  may  oppose  an  actress 
in  the  performance  of  her  art  by  every  form  of  moral 
resistance,  and,  when  she  has  earned  the  money  in 
spite  of  us,  we  may  levy  upon  her  to  sustain  our  own 
scheme. 

Does  the  artist  give  only  a  few  hours  of  her  time? 
If  so,  then  suppose  you  select  the  three  or  four  hours 
that  she  is  taking  a  railroad  journey.  Let  her  con- 
tribute the  proceeds  of  the  three  hours  that  she  is 
12 


OUR  CHARITIES.  135 

making  morning-calls,  or  indulging  in  a  siesta.  Those 
are  the  hours  of  her  time  as  truly  as  the  hours  during 
which  she  is  performing  on  the  stage.  But  those  hours 
bring  no  money.  So  it  is  not  that  she  gives  simply 
three  hours  of  her  time.  She  gives  time  that  is  filled 
to  the  brim  with  her  gifts  and  graces.  She  gives  you 
all  the  native  genius,  the  control,  the  hard  study,  the 
assiduous  practice,  the  vital  power,  the  travel  and  self- 
control,  the  fame  and  glory,  which  make  her  three 
hours  of  time  worth  more  in  hard  money  than  three 
years  of  the  kitchen-maid's.  Her  empty  time  is  worth 
no  more  than  yours  or  mine. 

You  go  to  the  lawyer  for  advice,  which  he  condenses 
into  an  hour,  and  for  which  you  pay  five,  twenty,  a 
hundred  dollars.  It  is  not  for  his  hour's  time,  but  for 
the  three  years  of  preparatory  study,  and  four  years  of 
college,  and  three  years  of  law  school,  and  days  and 
nights  of  laborious  research  and  continuous  applica- 
tion, that  make  him  capable  of  answering  your  question, 
and  make  his  answer  worth  to  you  a  hundred  times 
what  you  pay  him  for  it. 

The  grocer,  who  would  be  considered  munificent  in 
giving  you  five  dollars,  is  churlish  if  he  will  not  give 
five  dollars'  worth  of  flour  to  your  charity,  and  nig- 
gardly to  the  last  degree,  if  he  refuses  to  sell  whatever 
you  want  at  cost  price.  The  doctor  is  expected  to 
make  out  no  bill  against  his  poor  patients.     The  edi- 


136  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

tor  sends  his  newspaper  to  clerg}Tmen  at  half-price. 
The  author  is  asked  to  send  fifteen  or  twenty  dollars' 
worth  of  books  to  a  remote  societ}',  whose  money 
donors  average  a  dollar  and  a  half  apiece  ;  and  the 
feuilletoniste,  to  contribute  a  twent}*,  thirty,  or  fifty 
dollar  article  to  the  "paper"  of  some  unknown  fair, 
edited  by  citizen  amateurs,  whose  services  in  that 
capacity  would  not  bring  fifty  cents  in  any  known 
market.  If  a  knot  of  }Toung  men  in  Omaha  desired  to 
form  a  reading-club,  they  would  not  dream  of  asking 
the  proprietors  of  a  newspaper  for  five  dollars  to  pay 
room-rent ;  but  if  Messrs.  Proprietors  have  not  been 
repeatedly  requested  to  send  their  publications  free,  by 
way  of  encouragement,  to  incipient  and  impecunious 
reading-clubs,  their  experience  is  different  from  that 
.of  most  publishing-firms  whose  ways  I  have  known. 
Beggary  of  goods  seems  a  very  easy  Christian  duty  and 
worldly  pleasure  to  people  who  would  count  beggary 
of  money  a  thing  improper,  and  deleterious  to  self- 
respect. 

None  of  these  requests  are  unkindly  meant,  though 
a  refusal  is  sometimes  rudely  met.  The}"  spring  from 
a  forge tfulness,  or  unacquaintance  with  the  fact,  that 
whatever  is  worth  costs ;  that  labor  and  products  are 
as  valuable  as  the  money  for  which  they  could  be  sold ; 
that  to  ask  a  man  to  give  that  by  which  he  gets  his 
living  is  just  the  same  as  to  ask  him  for  his  living.     If 


OUR  CHARITIES.  137 

the  butcher  choose  to  give  meat,  instead  of  monej', 
that  is  his  own  affair  ;  but  to  ask  him  for  meat  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  to  ask  him  for  money ;  and  to  ask 
him  to  sell  meat  at  cost  price  is  the  same  as  to  ask  him 
for  all  the  money  which  constitutes  his  profit ;  and,  if 
he  refuse  to  give  meat,  you  have  no  more  right  to  call 
him  selfish  or  heartless,  than  he  has  to  call  you  stingy 
because  you  do  not  have  beefsteak  or  veal-cutlets  every 
morning  for  breakfast.  You  have  no  more  right  to 
dictate  a  man's  charities  than  you  have  to  dictate  his 
courtship.  Especially  have  you  no  right  even  to  pass 
judgment  upon  the  stranger  that  is  far  off  from  thy 
gates,  —  the  stranger  whom  you  do  not  know,  whose  life 
is  remote  from  yours,  with  whose  circumstances,  and 
daily  surroundings,  and  personal  connections,  }tou  are 
utterly  unfamiliar.  To  hold  up  such  an  one  to  oppro- 
brium, because  he  declines  to  contribute  to  a  distant 
charit}T,  is  to  hazard  the  reputation  of  your  own  judg- 
ment. No  one  can  say  whether  another  is,  or  is  not, 
justified  in  withholding  alms,  until  he  knows  all  the 
sources  of  that  other's  income,  all  his  channels  of 
outflow,  all  the  circumstances  of  all  his  family  and 
acquaintance,  all  the  system  of  his  life,  and  all  his 
plans  for  the  future.  On  the  whole,  the  lesson  is  so 
hard,  that  he  would  probably  employ  his  time  to  more 
advantage  by  pushing  his  researches  in  other  direc- 
tions. 


138  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Many  of  us  who  would  never  think  of  dictating  the 
charities  of  others  are  3^et  never  wear}'  of  inculcating, 
and  even  practising,  econom}',  that  money  may  thereby 
be  saved  to  bestow  upon  the  poor  ;  and  think  we  are 
doing  God  service. 

Economy  has  a  good  sound,  a  very  innocent  and 
even  virtuous  sound ;  but  how  are  we  to  economize  ? 
and  who  is  to  economize  ?  and  what  are  we  about  to 
economize  for?  and  at  whose  cost  shall  the  economy 
be  ?  I  should  say,  first,  that  if  the  winter  is  to  be  a 
hard  winter  for  the  poor,  if  it  is  to<be  scanty  of  labor, 
and  meagre  in  wages,  the  first  duty  of  all  persons  is, 
not  to  retrench  unless  they  are  obliged  to  retrench. 
Charity  is  apt  to  be  unwholesome  and  demoralizing. 
Let  us  see  that  it  is  clad  in  its  least  offensive  forms. 
The  rich  man  whose  income  is  not  seriousty  affected, 
or  at  least  not  reduced  to  the  demands  he  makes  upon 
it,  ought  b}'  no  means  to  reduce  his  stjle  of  living. 
If  he  make  occasion,  from  the  dulness  of  the  times,  to 
dismiss  three  of  his  six  servants,  is  he  not  adding  to 
the  general  distress  by  throwing  three  unemphjyed 
men  upon  the  community,  already  staggering  under 
the  weight  of  its  unemployed  force  ?  If  a  woman  who 
would  ordinarily  have  four  new  suits  for  the  winter 
content  herself  with  two,  is  she  not  helping  to  with- 
draw from  circulation  money  which  would  help  to 
diminish  friction?  Women  are  proposing  to  make 
12* 


OUR   CHARITIES.  139 

their  own  gowns,  and  do  their  own  housework,  not  in 
the  least  because  they  are  hampered  by  the  hard 
times,  not  because  they  are  not  just  as  able  to  hire 
labor  as  the}'  ever  were,  but  because  of  the  example. 
They  say,  conscientiously,  that  man}-  persons  will  be 
obliged  to  curtail,  and  that  it  will  be  all  the  easier  for 
these  if  they  see  others,  possibly  their  superiors  in 
social  station,  doing  the  same  thing.  This  is  friendly 
and  kind;  but  is  it  not  mistaken  kindness?  It  is 
foregoing  a  positive  for  an  imaginary  service.  Two 
women,  let  us  say,  live  side  b}'  side.  One  is  rich : 
the  other  has  a  moderate  fortune.  The  first  is  not 
seriously  affected  by  the  state  of  the  money  market ; 
that  is,  her  income  is  less,  but  it  is  not  sufficiently 
lessened  to  touch  her  style  of  living.  The  second 
woman  finds  herself  obliged  to  cut  off  several  expenses. 
She  dismisses  her  seamstress  and  her  second  nurse. 
Now,  if  the  first  woman,  to  encourage  and  sustain 
her,  does  the  same,  we  have  two  nurses  and  two 
seamstresses  thrown  upon  the  already  overstocked 
labor  market.  One  ma}'  be  inevitable  ;  but  the  two  are 
not.  Most  likely  these  two  have  others  dependent 
upon  them  ;  and  so,  for  a  mere  sentimental  and  prob- 
lematical object,  the  circle  of  want  and  distress  is 
enlarged. 

I  think,  moreover,  that  we  overestimate  influence. 
The  thing  which  it  is  right  and  proper  to  do  is  gener- 


140  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

ally  the  thing  which  will  have  the  best  influence.  It 
is  pleasant  to  reflect  that  one  is  not  singled  out  by 
fate  for  hard  knocks.  There  is  a  certain  satisfaction 
in  feeling  that  your  poverty  is  not  the  result  of  your 
own  folly  or  error  exclusively.  But,  however  your 
drudgery  over  broom  or  needle  may  be  softened  by 
the  thought  that  your  bosom-friend  is  reduced  to 
the  same  drudgery,  there  is  very  little  mitigation  in 
seeing  your  millionnaire  friend  pretending  to  be  under 
a  similar  necessit}\  Grown  people  ought  not  to  be  so 
babyish ;  and,  if  they  are,  it  is  much  better  to  reason 
them  out  of  it  than  to  give  in  to  it.  The  people  who 
are  to  be  first  considered  are  not  those  to  whom 
retrenchment  means  a  little  more  or  less  feeling, 
pride,  or  work,  but  those  to  whom  it  means  perplexit}^ 
struggle,  despair.  To  spare  the  sensitiveness  of  one 
woman  at  the  expense  of  another  woman's  dinner  is 
a  very  unreasonable  way  of  setting  a  good  example. 
If  circumstances  enforce  retrenchment,  let  people 
retrench  "  without  fear,  and  with  a  manly  heart." 
But  let  not  those  who  are  not  obliged  to  do  it  diminish 
aught  of  their  expenditure.  Especially  let  them,  in 
every  possible  way,  purchase  labor.  No  woman  who 
can  afford  to  buy  should  herself  do  a  stitch  of  sewing 
or  any  household  work.  The  cooking,  the  waiting, 
the  sewing,  which  she  hires,  may  be  the  very  life  of 
those  to  whom  retrenchment  means  starvation.     u  It 


OUR   CHARITIES.  141 

will  not  be  disastrous  to  me,"  said  the  manager  of  a 
dressmaking  establishment  to  a  customer  who  was 
proposing  to  sew  her  own  dresses.  "  I  am  sure  of 
work  enough  for  myself  for  the  winter.  But  I  employ 
twent}T  girls,  not  one  of  whom  is  independent,  not  one 
of  whom  but  has  some  one  or  more  to  be  helped  by 
her  earnings.  As  fast  as  sewing  diminishes,  I  shall 
dismiss  these  girls  ;  but  what  is  to  become  of  them  ?  ' ' 
Others  say  that  they  must  curtail  in  expenditure  in 
order  to  have  money  to  bestow  in  charity.  This,  too, 
is  wise  if  it  be  wisely  done.  But  can  money  be  better 
bestowed  in  charity  than  in  the  purchase  of  labor?  A 
great  point  is  to  arrange  our  charities  so  that  they 
shall  neither  wound  nor  lower  the  self-respect  of  the 
recipients.  There  are  manufacturers  who  are  running 
their  mills  at  a  loss,  because  of  the  large  suffering 
that  would  ensue  from  stoppage.  This  is  not  business  : 
it  is  charit}r.  The  loss  is  so  much  money  given  to  the 
poor.  But  it  is  given  in  the  least  offensive  way.  It 
is  given  in  connection  with  a  regular  life,  with  stated 
work,  with  industrious  habits,  and,  in  many  cases,  to 
the  recipient,  wears  the  aspect  of  wages  ;  so  that  he  is 
not  demoralized  thereby.  Many  a  woman  would  not 
consider  twenty,  or  fifty,  or  five  hundred  dollars  an 
enormous  sum  to  contribute  for  women  and  men  who 
were  starving  in  her  neighborhood.  Let  her,  then, 
distribute  it,  so  far  as  possible,  in  the  form  of  reward 


142  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

bestowed  for  service  rendered,  and  thus  prevent 
starvation  and  suffering,  heal  the  feud  between  rich 
and  poor,  and  avert  social  confusion  and  dismay. 

And  what  is  applicable  to  the  rich  may  also  be 
applicable  to  those  who  are  hovering  on  the  border- 
land of  wealth.  Such  a  winter  as  is  foretold  might 
be  doubly  a  "  means  of  grace  "  to  many  women,  —  to 
those,  for  instance,  who  are  a  little  doubtful  as  to 
whether  it  would  be  prudent  to  "  keep  help,"  or  to 
add  another  servant  to  the  household  staff,  but  who 
would  exceedingly  enjoy  and  improve  the  leisure 
which  such  assistance  would  permit.  Let  charity  give 
to  them,  and  to  some  needy  woman,  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt,  and  let  the  overburdened  housewife  rest  from 
her  labors,  and  refresh  herself  with  social  pleasures, 
with  outdoor  exercise,  with  family  diversions,  with 
reading  and  music,  and  all  possible  gratification  of 
taste,  and  enlargement  of  culture,  solacing  herself 
continually  with  the  added  satisfaction  of  knowing, 
that,  in  ministering  thus  to  her  own  joy s,  she  is  minis- 
tering also  to  the  more  imperative  wants,  and-  the 
greater  need,  of  a  poorer  and  more  helpless  woman. 

When  Mr.  Charles  Kingsley  wrote  in  the  young 
lady's  album,  — 

"  Be  good,  sweet  child,  and  let  who  will  be  clever," 

it   answered   every  purpose  for  poetry;   but,   in  the 


OUR   CHARITIES.  143 

conduct  of  life,  it  seems  almost  as  necessary  to  be 
clever  as  it  is  to  be  good. 

And  poverty  is  not  without  its  comical  side,  even  in 
our  serious,  self-governing  country. 

Any  person  who  has  travelled  in  Canada  will  have 
vivid  recollections  of  the  lively  little  beggars  who 
swarm  in  all  its  streets  and  highways.  Not  only  in 
the  cities,  but  along  the  country  roads,  some  dragon's 
cub's  teeth  seem  to  be  springing  up  as  merry  alert 
children,  ever  on  the  qui  vive  for  un  sou.  Wherever 
a  penny  is,  there  will  the  beggars  gather  together  in 
numbers  so  perplexing,  that  you  feel  the  sole  safety  is 
withdrawing  into  your  shell,  and  relinquishing  specie 
payment  altogether. 

The  only  place  in  the  United  States  where  I  have 
found  any  thing  like  this  is  Washington  ;  and  there  it 
is  wholly  unlike  it.  Independence,  thank  Heaven  !  is 
the  characteristic  of  our  countrymen.  The  tow- 
headed,  freckled-faced,  bare-footed  children  of  a  New- 
England  village  would  no  sooner  think  of  asking 
money  from  the  passing  traveller  than  would  the 
president  and  his  cabinet ;  and,  if  you  wish  to  give  a 
cast-off  garment  to  a  soldier's  widow,  you  must  ap- 
proach her  with  as  many  moral  salaams  as  if  she  were 
the  cadi  himself.  Long  and  long  and  long  may  it  be, 
or  ever  we  shall  lose  our  honorable  pride  in  this  re- 
gard! 


144  SERMONS   TO   TEE  CLERGY. 

But  we  have  changed  all  that  in  Washington. 
Whether  it  be  from  some  abnormal  element  in  the  social 
atmosphere,  Washington  seems  to  have  more  than  its 
due  share  of  the  mendicancy  of  the  country.  It  is  true 
that  you  will  occasionally  find  a  mature  beggar  at  some 
Northern  street-crossing  (I  never  did,  though  I  have 
heard  of  them)  ;  but  they  are  generally  foreigners : 
and  occasionally  a  demure  boy,  with  a  world  too  much 
pathos  in  his  melancholy  voice,  will  implore  you  to 
give  him  a  few  cents  to  buy  a  loaf  of  bread  for  his 
sick  mother,  or  a  pair  of  shoes  to  enable  him  to  appear 
at  the  Sunday  school ;  (the  precocious  little  Irypocrite  !) 
but  these  are  sporadic  cases,  and  hardly  more  than 
emphasize  the  general  rule  of  American  self-respect. 
It  is  in  Washington  alone  that  our  native  but  else- 
where latent  talent  for  direct  beggary  has  found  the 
conditions  of  development ;  and  the  result  is  such  as  a 
patriotic  American  must  ever  view  with  feelings  of 
pride.  It  may,  at  first  sight,  seem  a  rather  extreme 
case  of  extracting  sunshine  from  cucumbers ;  but 
herein  is  genius.  To  be  first  in  war,  first  in  peace, 
and  the  rest,  is  easy  enough ;  but  to  be  first  in  begging 
requires  a  rare  combination  of  qualities :  and  nowhere 
does  the  ingenuity,  the  high  spirit,  the  creative  power, 
the  fertility  of  resources  characteristic  of  our  country- 
men, show  more  clearly  than  in  the  manner  in  which 
they  have  lifted  beggary  out  of  the  gutters  of  Wash- 


OUR  CHARITIES.  145 

ington,  and  set  it  among  the  high  and  fine  arts. 
Some  in  rags,  and  some  in  tags?  Not  a  bit  of  it! 
The  rags  and  tags,  the  bandaged  arms  and  blinded 
e}Tes,  the  shipwrecked  sailors,  and  all  the  hackneyed 
machine^  of  the  professional  beggar,  are  haughtily 
and  completely  abandoned.  They  may  well  enough 
serve  the  purposes  of  the  effete  despotisms  of  Europe  ; 
but  America  plants  herself  on  the  rights  of  man. 
Rags  for  the  peasant,  tags  for  the  serf,  but,  for  the 
free  American  citizen,  black  coat  and  clean  dickey 
forever !  And,  if  your  American  woman  takes  to  beg- 
ging, be  sure  not  one  hair  of  her  chignon  shall  fail, 
nor  shall  her  overskirt  miss  a  single  puff,  or  the  regu- 
lation ruffle  be  wanting  from  her  walking-suit,  with 
gloves  and  parasol  to  match. 

Your  door-bell  rings  before  breakfast ;  and  your  ser- 
vant brings  jtou  the  card  of  Rev.  Dr.  Adams.  You 
are  hardly  in  visiting-humor  before  breakfast ;  but,  if 
it  is  the  gentle  and  scholarly  pastor  of  Portsmouth, 
you  would  not  for  the  world  miss  seeing  him.  And 
perhaps  it  may  be  Rev.  Dr.  Adams  of  Madison 
Square  :  who  knows  ?  You  give  the  last  touch  to  your 
crimps,  and  a  slight  adjusting  shake  to  your  flounces, 
and  go  down  with  your  best  face.  A„  single  glance 
shows  you  that  it  is  not  the  Portsmouth  clergyman  ; 
and,  though  there  is  a  white  cravat  and  a  black  coat, 
an  indefinable  something  convinces  you  that  it  is  not 
Dr.  Adams  of  Madison  Square. 


146  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

Dr.  Adams  rises  to  meet  you,  and  bows  with  dignity. 
You  return  his  bow  with  dubiety. 

"  Mrs.  Smith?  "  inquires  the  doctor  blandly. 

You  assent,  stiffening  slowly  each  instant. 

"  I  have  called,"  pursues  the  doctor,  lt  in  behalf  of 
a  brother-clerg3Tman  who  has  been  obliged  to  retire 
from  the  pulpit  on  account  of  ill  health,  and  who  is 
thus  left  without  resources.  He  is  a  very  respectable 
man  :  I  have  known  him  for  a  long  tine,  and  can  vouch 
for  his  character." 

"The  River  Rhine,  as  is  well  known, 
Washes  the  city  of  Cologne ; 
But,  oh,  ye  gods!  what  power  divine 
Can  ever  cleanse  the  River  Rhine?" 

"  He  is  in  great  need  of  help  ;  and  any  assistance 
you  may  be  able  to  render  him  "  —  But  here  you  take 
up  the  parable,  like  any  heathen  man  and  publican ; 
and  Dr.  Adams  departs,  unconsoled  for  his  brother- 
clergyman. 

Mrs.  Karl  begs  the  favor  of  a  few  moments  with 
Mrs.  Smith.  It  is  little  to  grant  to  a  woman  and  a 
sister,  and  you  go  down.  Mrs.  Karl  is  a  woman  who 
has  seen  better  days.  She  owned,  in  New  York,  a 
farm  worth  twelve  thousand  dollars.  War,  sickness, 
and  misfortune  came :  they  lost  their  property,  farm 
and  all.  She  is  very  desirous  of  getting  it  back.  To 
do  so,  she  proposes  to  set  up  a  bakery.  This  bakery 
13 


OUR  CHARITIES.  147 

once  established,  she  is  confident  she  can  recover  her 
farm  in  a  year.  The  bakery  building  is  already  taken  ; 
but  as  it  was  formerly  a  barrack,  or  hospital,  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  her  claim  to  it  can  be  secured  only 
b}r  congressional  action :  of  course,  this  involves 
delay.  Meanwhile,  could  she  borrow  of  you  money 
enough  to  bu}>-  a  load  of  coal  ?  She  will  pay  you  in 
baking,  when  her  title-deed  is  secured,  and  her  barrack 
made  over  into  a  bakery.  She  will  send  it  to  you  in 
bread  or  cake,  as  you  may  desire.  She  has  a  very  ac- 
complished daughter,  and  has  no  doubt  of  her  success. 
You  are  less  sanguine  ;  but  is  it  not  an  heroic  plan  ? 
You  give  her  five  dollars.  Three  months  pass,  and  the 
barrack  still  remains  unmolested ;  nor  have  you  any 
proof  of  the  spelling-book  assertion,  that 

"Bakers  bake  bread  and  cake." 

An  English  lady  has  called  to  see  Mrs.  Smith.  The 
English  lady  is  short  and  stout  and  ruddy,  in  a  rusty 
black  suit,  with  double  rows  of  ruffles,  with  a  spotted 
black  veil  parted  here  and  there  in  the  meshes.  She 
brings  herself  to  your  recollection  as  a  woman  who 
has  formerly  applied  to  you  for  sewing.  She  then 
brought  you  a  note  of  recommendation  from  the  am- 
bassadress of  her  British  Majesty,  who  had  often 
employed  her.  The  ambassadress  has  now  left  town, 
and  can  give  her  no  more  assistance.     Her  daughter  is 


148         SERMONS   TO   TEE   CLERGY. 

apprentice  to  a  hairdresser.  Her  time  will  be  out  in 
two  weeks ;  and  then  she  will  begin  to  receive  wages. 
Meanwhile,  would  you  be  willing  to  have  the  daughter 
come  to  3^our  house  every  day  to  lunch,  at  precisely 
eleven  o'clock  ?  She  does  not  wish  }tou  to  lay  yourself 
out  on  the  lunch  :  any  thing  will  do.  She  is  particular 
only  that  it  shall  be  at  precisely  eleven  o'clock.  A 
very  kind  gentleman  in  one  of  the  departments  has 
hitherto  given  her  her  meals ;  but  he  has  now  gone 
into  the  country  :  hence  this  requisition  upon  you. 

You  compromise  by  giving  her  two  dollars,  assuring 
her  that  that  will  provide  her  daughter  with  lunch  for 
a  week.  And,  while  I  am  writing  these  words,  the 
Englishwoman  has  returned,  after  a  month's  absence, 
and  asks  for  a  little  money,  just  to  keep  her  over  Sun- 
day. I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  why  she  should 
want  to  be  kept  over  Sunday  more  than  any  other  day. 
If  3rou  are  to  starve  on  Monday,  you  may  as  well 
starve  on  Saturday,  and  be  done  with  it.  But  my 
lady  looks  the  farthest  in  the  world  from  starving : 
even  hunger  can  never  have  come  unpleasantly  near 
that  ruddy  face  and  rotund  form.  "  Fee-faw-fum !  I 
smell  the  beer  of  an  Englishman."  I  have  even  grave 
suspicions  of  gin.  But  what  can  you  do  ?  The  voice 
is  tremulous.  Compromise,  alwa}-s  compromise.  You 
do  neither  one  thing  nor  another.  Fifty  cents  is 
neither  here  nor  there  ;  and  then  she  asks  you  if  you 


OUR   CHARITIES.  149 

will  not  use  your  influence  to  get  her  a  place  in  the 
treasury.  If  she  could  have  a  place  in  the  treasury, 
it  would  yield  enough  to  supply  all  her  needs.  As  it 
is,  all  their  mone}'  goes  to  pay  the  rent. 

It  is  hardly  hypocrisy  to  say  you  will  mention  it,  as 
you  would  probably  have  far  more  difficulty  in  deceiv- 
ing her  than  she  would  have  in  deceiving  you ;  and, 
before  the  door  has  closed  upon  her  retreating  alpaca, 
a  little  girl  trips  up  the  steps,  and  informs  you  cheer- 
fully that  the  baby  is  very  sick,  and  cannot  live,  and, 
"if  it  does  die,"  ma  has  not  money  enough  to  buy  a 
coffin.  You  invest  ten  cents  in  that  hypothetical 
coffin,  with  an  alacrity  which  does  no  honor  to  your 
heart,  and  which  will  be  very  far  from  appearing  on 
the  credit  side  when  your  account  is  made  up. 

Mrs.  Henderson  calls  before  breakfast  to  see  Gen. 
Smith.  Gen.  Smith,  scenting  the  battle  afar  off, 
cowardly  but  piteously  implores  Mrs.  Smith  to  go  to 
the  front.  What  exigency  is  too  great  for  woman's 
devotion?  Mrs.  Smith  goes — and  is  covered  with  con- 
fusion. Mrs.  Henderson  a  beggar,  with  gay  bonnet 
and  spruce  walking-suit?  Not  she!  What  is  this? 
Two  five-dollar  bills  held  out  to  you!  the  genial 
McCulloch-face  shining  up  at  you  from  its  home  of 
dingy  green  as  sweetly  as  if  no  war  nor  battle  sound 
had  ever  been  heard  the  world  around.  You  put  your 
hand  to  your  head,  almost  like  Mr.  Twemlow,  fearing  a 

13* 


150  SER310NS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

softening  of  the  brain.  But  Mrs.  Henderson  explains 
that  this  is  money  which  Gen.  Smith  was  so  good  as  to 
lend  her  some  time  ago.  She  has  called  to  pay  it  be- 
fore ;  but  the  general  was  out.  She  has  tried  again 
and  again  to  find  him  at  the  Capitol,  but  failed.  You 
take  the  money  with  unresisting,  and  even  with  un- 
thinking, innocence ;  but  she  does  not  go.  She  lin- 
gers, hesitates,  tells  you  they  are  still  very  poor.  She 
has  just  received  a  letter  from  her  sister  in  Virginia,  to 
whom  she  had  written,  to  know  if  it  were  worth  while 
to  come  home.  Her  sister  told  her  by  no  means  to 
come  ;  that  there  was  nothing  for  her  to  do,  and  their 
poverty  was  extreme.  Her  sister  is  a  girl  of  education 
and  accomplishments.  She  should  like  to  read  you 
the  letter,  that  you  may  see  in  what  condition  they 
are :  whereupon  she  unfolds  the  letter,  and  stands  in 
the  window  to  read  it ;  you,  by  the  way,  standing,  all 
the  while,  to  redeem  what  time  you  may.  Father,  it 
seems,  has  borrowed  twenty-five  dollars  from  Cousin 
Tom;  and,  "  just  think  of  it !  "  comments  Mrs.  Hen- 
derson, "of  the  leetle,  leetle  money  that  poor  girl  has 
been  able  to  earn,  he  has  borrowed  five  dollars,  and 
even  of  me  five  !  "  and  she  resumes  her  letter  with  its 
tale  of  woe,  till  she  comes  to  "  we  don't  even  have"  — 
and  there  she  stops  short,  sajdng,  it  just  relates  to  the 
dishes  on  the  table  which  they  do  without :  she  will 
not  read  that.     Could  the  force  of  genius  farther  go  ? 


OUR   CHARITIES.  151 

She  has  too  much  delicacy  to  enter  into  those  minute 
details,  yet  manages  to  convey  to  you  the  pith  of  the 
whole  catalogue.  You  express  your  regret ;  and  the 
thought  dawns  upon  you,  that,  perhaps,  you  ought  not 
to  keep  the  monej'.  How  can  you  take  ten  dollars  from 
a  table  where  they  don't  even  have?  —  The  more  you 
think  of  it,  the  tighter  3-ou  clutch  the  bills.  Why 
should  she  read  such  a  letter  to  you,  a  perfect  stran- 
ger? "Why  did  she  bring  the  monej7,  if  not  to  pay  the 
debt?  Wretch  that  you  are,  thus  to  take  the  pound 
of  flesh  so  scrupulously  proffered  !  But  you  do  not  let 
go  the  bills  ;  and  you  do  let  Mrs.  Henderson  go.  You 
report  proceedings  to  the  mone}- -lender.  Oh,  yes  !  he 
remembers  Mrs.  Henderson.  She  came  to  him,  repre- 
senting herself  a  Virginia  woman,  who  had  somehow 
got  a  place  in  the  treasury.  There  she  proclaimed  her 
"secesh"  views  with  a  violence  which  lost  her  the 
situation ;  but  she  appealed  to  Northern  Republicans, 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  till  she  was  restored. 
From  the  same  gentlemen  she  had  also  borrowed 
various  sums  of  money ;  and  to  one  of  them,  a  sena- 
tor, she  had  afterwards  gone,  saying  that  she  had  a 
great  desire  to  attend  Mrs.  Secretary's  reception,  and 
begged  him  to  escort  her.  Unhappy  Mrs.  Henderson  ! 
Ill-timed  honesty  !  Had  Gen.  Smith  obeyed  her  sum- 
mons, she  would  doubtless  have  retained  her  little  bills 
with  the  pleasant  McCulloch  face ;  but  a  woman  has 


152  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

no  sentiment  about  a  woman,  and  takes  her  dues  as 
coldly  as  the  frosty  Caucasus.  Let  a  woman  pray 
Temryson's  prayer,  "O  God!  for  a  man,"  if  she  de- 
signs to  do  any  thing  in  the  way  of  wool-pulling. 

Mrs.  Forrest  sits  in  the  hall,  patiently  waiting  oppor- 
tunity to  see  you.  She  is  dressed  in  a  perfectly  plain 
mourning  calico,  and  black,  broad-brimmed  straw  hat, 
trimmed  with  a  single  ribbon.  Her  voice  is  low,  her 
manner  quiet,  her  words  well  chosen.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  Maryland  farmer,  and  was  reared  with- 
out affluence,  but  in  entire  comfort.  Her  husband  is 
an  invalid,  bed-ridden.  She  has  five  children.  They 
have  had  absolutely  nothing  to  eat  since  three  o'clock 
the  day  before.  They  live  out  in  the  country,  —  a 
pleasant  evening  drive  after  dinner,  but  a  weary,  weary 
wa}^  for  this  poor  woman  to  drag  herself  in  on  a  sunny 
"Washington  morning.  Yet  again  and  again  has  she 
made  the  toilsome  tramp  in  search  of  something  to  do. 
She  is  willing  to  sew,  she  will  take  service,  she  will 
work  by  the  day,  —  any  thing  that  will  bring  food  for 
the  helpless  family.  She  has  worked  one  day  at  Mrs. 
Evans's,  assisting  the  ordinary  household  staff  through 
an  entertainment.  For  her  day's  work,  she  received 
fifty  cents. 

"  But  you  should  have  asked  a  dollar.  That  is  the 
usual  price  for  a  day's  work  of  that  sort." 

"I  did  ask  it;  but  they  refused  to  pay  it.     They 


OUR   CHARITIES.  153 

said  fifty  cents  was  all  it  is  worth;  and,"  she  added 
quaintly,  "  the  spunk  has  all  gone  out  of  me." 

Back  and  forth,  from  one  department  to  another, 
had  the  poor  woman  sought  emplo}^ment.  She  had 
thought  herself  very  near  getting  the  washing  of  the 
towels  at  the  post-office  ;  but  it  had  been  given  to 
another  person.  She  had  just  heard  of  a  woman  who 
had  got  a  place  in  the  treasury,  and  had  been  told 
that  she  might,  perhaps,  secure  one,  if  she  could  get  a 
letter  of  recommendation  from  some  influential  person. 
What  could  she  do  in  the  treasury?  Any  thing  but 
write.  She  could  be  a  messenger,  a  porter,  —  any 
thing  that  does  not  require  education.  You  give  her  a 
little  money  (which,  no  doubt,  perplexes  her  with  the 
necessity  of  spending  it  twenty  ways  at  once)  and, 
perhaps,  a  very  little  hope,  which  is,  after  all,  more 
than  you  feel  yourself;  for  what  is  her  waning 
strength  among  so  many  wants? 

Enter  Mrs.  Bainbridge,  representative,  in  her  own 
person,  of  the  oldest  and  most  aristocratic  family  in 
the  Carolinas,  and,  in  her  husband's  person,  of  the  next 
best.  Thus  Mrs.  Bainbridge.  A  gentleman  told  her 
that  Gen.  Smith  used  to  be  in  the  Carolinas,  and  rec- 
ommended her  to  come  to  him.  Her  husband  died  in 
the  Union  army,  and  she  is  entitled  to  a  pension ;  but 
she  has  never  received  it,  and,  in  fact,  does  not  know 
how  to  go  to  work  to  get  it.     She  was  well  educated ; 


154  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

but  her  accomplishments  have  become  rusty  through 
disuse.  She  had,  however,  brushed  up  her  music,  and 
earned  a  little  money  by  giving  lessons.  Her  son  ob- 
tained a  place  in  the  folding  department,  where  he 
worked  by  the  piece ;  and,  as  he  was  ver}-  ambitious, 
had  earned  sometimes  as  much  as  thirty  dollars  a 
month.  Indeed,  she  has  kept  him  at  it  so  close,  that 
he  scarcely  knows  how  to  read  and  write.  "  You 
would  be  surprised,  Mrs.  Smith,  to  know  how  little  we 
can  live  on.  Two  sandwiches  a  day  from  the  market 
is  very  often  all  we  have."  But  her  boy's  arm,  owing 
to  the  intensity  of  his  toil,  has  become  paralyzed ; 
and  he  is  completety  disabled.  She  has  now  the  offer 
of  a  little  school  at  Richmond,  which  she  would  take 
at  once  if  she  could  but  get  money  to  pay  her  fare. 
She  has  been  to  the  railroad  authorities  to  beg  them 
to  take  her  free.  They  refused,  but  would  take  her  at 
half-rate.  That  would  be  seven  dollars  and  a  half. 
She  has  pawned  all  her  clothes,  except  what  she  wore. 
Mrs.  Montgomeiy,  who  used  to  know  her,  had  given 
her  a  fan  and  parasol,  saying,  "  Mrs.  Bainbridge,  }tou 
are  so  reduced,  that  }*ou  must  keep  up  your  spirits 
and  self:respect  by  being  well  dressed,  or  you  will  go 
down  entirely." 

Very  much  shaken  in  mind,  you  ask  her  why  she 
does  not  apply  to  the  gentlemen  from  her  own  section, 
rather  than  to  the  representatives  of  the  frozen  North. 


OUR   CHARITIES.  155 

She  says  they  are  Democrats,  and  would  not  do  a  single 
thing  for  her.  There  is  Mr.  Lang,  a  gentleman  from 
her  own  town ;  but  it  would  be  no  use  at  all  to  go  to 
him,  because  he  is  a  Democrat.  You  think  better  of 
the  Democrats  than  that,  Red  Republican  though  you 
be.  You  do  not  believe  the  man  lives,  North  or 
South,  who  would  refuse  to  help  a  suffering  woman 
because  of  the  political  creed  of  her  dead  husband. 
But  it  is  a  pitiful  case  on  the  face  of  it.  If  it  should 
be  true  !  You  go  scrambling  around  in  your  mind  to 
catch  an  impartial  view  of  the  situation.  She  is  a 
Randolph,  let  us  say,  by  birth,  and  a  Bainbridge  by 
marriage.  Why  does  she  not  appeal  to  the  extant 
Randolphs  and  Bainbridges,  if  they  belong  to  her, 
instead  of  exposing  the  family  poverty?  But  you 
have  heard  that  the  Randolphs  and  Bainbridges  have  a 
large  and  impecunious  family  connection ;  and  this 
may  be  one  defective  link  in  the  rusty  chain.  Wiry  did 
the  unnatural  mother  sacrifice  her  son's  arm  and  edu- 
cation so  ruthlessly?  A  Yankee  mother  would  sooner 
have  lost  her  own  life.  And  why  did  they  send  to 
market  for  sandwiches  ?  It  would  have  been  cheaper 
to  make  their  own  bread.  But,  bless  me  !  if  a  woman 
is  faint  and  hungry,  there  is  an  end  of  it.  There  is  no 
use  in  arguing  that  it  is  her  own  fault.  "  The  poor  ye 
have  always  with  you/'  so  long  as  the  fools  are  three 
out  of  foui*,  in  every  person's  acquaintance,  according 


156         SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

to  Lady  Mary.  Yet,  if  she  should  be  an  impostor, 
and  this  merely  a  way  of  getting  a  living !  You  re- 
member that  your  friend  and  neighbor  kept  the  tally 
of  all  the  beggars  for  a  month,  taking  the  name  and 
address  of  every  one,  and  sending  her  son,  or  a  trusty 
servant,  to  investigate  eaeh  case.  Of  thirty  appli- 
cants, only  one  proved  to  be  honest.  The  god  of  this 
world  whispers  over  your  left  shoulder,  and  you  give 
five  dollars,  telling  the  distressed  relic  of  the  first  and 
second  families  that  no  doubt  the  railroad  company 
will  carry  her  for  five  dollars.  All  day  you  are 
haunted,  at  intervals,  by  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that 
you  may  have  been  a  grudging  steward  of  the  Lord's 
estate  ;  held  in  suspense  by  an  almost  equally  uncom- 
fortable suspicion,  that  you  will  be  laughed  at  by  the 
lord  of  the  earthly  manor  for  having  again  been  duped 
by  a  gay  deceiver.  So  far  as  peace  of  mind  is 
secured,  your  five  dollars  is  as  poor  a  venture  as  was 
the  bow  which  Silas  Wegg  invested  in  Mr.  Boffin. 

Mrs.  Nott's  card  comes  up  to  }^ou  perfectly  comme  il 
faut.  Long  experience  has  made  you  suspicious  of 
strange  names  ;  but  this  may  be  a  visitor  proper.  You 
descend  to  find  Mrs.  Nott  a  quiet,  lad3'like-looking 
person,  as  non-committal  as  her  card.  To  beg,  or  not 
to  beg,  is  a  question  which  must  be  left  to  answer 
itself. 

"  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  knowing  3rou,  Mrs.  Nott?" 


OUR  CHARITIES.  157 

"  I  have  never  seen  3-011  before,  madam  ;  but  I  have 
called  in  behalf  of  a  lady  of  my  acquaintance  who  is 
very  need}T,  and  wants  assistance." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  lady?  " 

"Oh!  you  would  not  ask  me  to  give  her  name,  if 
3-0U  knew  her  :  it  would  hurt  her  feelings  so  much  !  " 

"  Surely  you  cannot  expect  me  to  give  blindfold." 

"  Oh !  I  do  not  expect  a  great  deal  from  any  one 
place  ;  but  twenty-five  cents  here,  and  fifty  cents  there, 
make  a  great  deal  in  course  of  the  day." 

' '  Do  you  find  it  agreeable  to  go  about  from  house  to 
house  asking  alms  ?  ' ' 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  most  disagreeable  work 
I  ever  did.  I  do  not  mind  being  refused  ;  but  some 
of  the  ladies  refuse  so  harshly !  If  they  would  only 
refuse  me  kindly,  I  would  not  feel  so  badlj*." 

You  mentally  thank  the  Jew  for  teaching  you  that 
word,  and  refuse  her  with  the  very  honey  and  cream 
of  kindness. 

You  are  sitting,  like  Father  Abraham,  in  your  tent- 
door,  anglice  bay-window,  in  the  cool  of  the  da}', 
listening  to  the  wandering  minstrels.  No  beggars 
they,  no  vulgar  organ-grinders,  with  grinning  monkey, 
hardly  less  hideous  than  themselves,  but  an  Italian 
troupe,  olive-skinned,  dark-eyed,  pleasant-voiced, 
decently-dressed,  —  a  young  man  with  a  harp,  a  younger 
man  and  young  girl  with  violins,  who  play  "  Norma  " 
14 


158  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

and  bid  you  good-evening;  or  go  quickly  away 
without  playing  at  all,  if  you  do  not  appear  at 
the  window  at  the  touch  of  the  first  few  notes. 
The}T  are  not  mendicants,  but  ministers  to  your 
pleasure,  harbingers  of  the  millennium,  honest  earners 
of  honest  money.  The  mendicants  are  the  two 
able-bodied  young  men  coming  up  the  door-steps, 
who,  seeing  you  convenient,  tell  their  moving  tale 
without  further  parley.  The  thunderbolts  of  fate  have 
smitten  them  sore.  One  has  lost  his  wife,  and  one  his 
betrothed,  —  "  his  only  friend,  to  whom  he  was  to  have 
been  married."  Sisters  and  brothers  followed  in 
rapid  succession.  "  Give  me  some  money  for  them," 
sa}Ts  the  general. 

"  I  won't,"  says  the  colonel  in  flat  insubordination. 

"  Fifty  cents?  "  pleads  the  general.  "  Haven't  you 
an}'  heart?  " 

"  I  haven't  fifty  cents  in  it." 

"  A  quarter,  then.     Lend  me  a  quarter." 

"  I  won't :  you  will  never  pay  it." 

And  the  hapless  afflicted,  seeing  the  case  going 
against  them,  proceed  ruthlessly  to  slay  father  and 
mother,  till  they  stand  alone  in  the  world,  a  pair  of 
helpless  orphans. 

"There!"  sslys  the  general,  "now  they've  killed 
them  all  off.  Give  them  ten  cents,  colonel,  and  let 
them  go.     Don't  be  stingy." 


OUR  CHARITIES.  159 

"No,"  says  the  colonel.  "Now  I  won't  give  them 
any  thing,"  as  if  he  had  meant  to  settle  a  handsome 
pension  on  each ;  and  the  bereaved  young  men 
march  away,  unfriended,  melancholy,  slow. 

A  buxom  Irishwoman  sends  up  an  earnest  appeal 
from  the  kitchen  for  permission  to  see  you  a  few 
minutes.  She  has  been  unable  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door,  except  by  pawning  her  clothes.  She  shows 
3^ou  the  pawn-tickets.  She  has  two  dresses  and  a 
shawl  which  she  is  exceedingly  desirous  to  redeem  from 
the  gentlemen  of  the  three  balls ;  and  she  solicits  you 
to  advance — mind,  I  say,  to  advance,  not  to  bestow, 
—  eight  dollars  for  the  purpose.  Remuneration  is  to 
come  to  you  in  the  shape  of  spring  chickens  for  your 
table,  if  Providence  smiles  upon  her  poultry-yard. 
Your  servants  know  nothing  about  the  woman.  No 
one  knows  any  thing  about  her ;  but  the  general,  who 
hears  of  her  story,  thinks  it  is  better  to  be  on  the  safe 
side,  and  give  her  the  eight  dollars.  Observe  the 
superior  sagacity  of  the  superior  sex.  Women  give 
hesitatingly,  fearing  imposture  on  the  one  side,  and 
ridicule  on  the  other.  Man,  the  tyrant,  having  nobody 
to  fear,  gives  with  a  high  hand,  assumes  imposture  in 
the  first  place,  bestows  his  alms  in  spite  of  it,  and 
defies  fate.  A  young  man  accosts  the  general  at  the 
Capitol,  tells  him  he  is  from  his  own  State  and  cuy, 
and  gives  his  name.     He  has  been  on  duty  at  Fortress 


160  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Monroe  ;  has  received  news  that  his  mother  in  Ohio  is 
very  ill ;  and  has  obtained  leave  to  visit  her.  Coming 
up  the  Potomac  on  a  steamer,  his  money  is  stolen  ;  and 
he  finds  himself  in  Washington,  penniless,  unable  to  go 
forward  or  backward.  Thus  appealed  to,  what  can  the 
general  do,  but  lend  him  thirty  dollars  for  his  sick 
mother's  sake,  "hoping  for  nothing  again,"  —  a  hope, 
it  is  needless  to  add,  which  does  not  fail  of  fruition. 

To  the  same  general  comes  another  }Toung  man, 
representing  himself  to  be  the  brother  of  a  friend  of 
his  in  New  York.  He,  too,  in  Washington,  has  fallen 
among  thieves  at  the  hotel,  who  have  stripped  him  of 
his  money,  and  reduced  him  to  the  necessity  of  beg- 
ging for  a  loan  of  twenty  dollars,  for  a  week  at  the 
longest.  And  the  general  looks  him  in  the  eye,  and 
knows  he  shall  never  see  his  twenty  dollars  again,  and 
gives  it  to  him  ;  and  is  careful  to  buy  his  own  horse- 
car-tickets  by  the  package,  to  save  a  cent  or  two  a 
year.     So  complicate,  so  wonderful,  is  man  ! 

But  one  of  these  adventurous  young  knights  was 
foiled,  though  "more  by  hit  than  any  good  wit."  A 
gentleman,  a  member  of  congress,  served  on  a  com- 
mittee, several  years  ago,  with  another  gentleman, 
who  used  frequently  to  refer  certain  questions  to  him, 
saying,  half  jocularly,  that  he  was  the  only  business- 
man in  the  house.  Not  long  ago,  a  young  gentleman,  of 
pleasing  person  and  address,  called  upon  him,  stating 


OUR  CHARITIES.  161 

that  he  was  the  son  of  his  former  congressional  friend  ; 
that  he  was  returning  from  a  trip  to  the  White  Moun- 
tains, in  company  with  his  two  sisters ;  that  on  the 
road  his  purse  had  been  stolen,  and  that  they  were  now 
at  their  hotel  in  a  very  embarrassing  position.  He 
knew  no  one  in  the  city  to  whom  he  could  apply  ;  but  he 
remembered  this  gentleman's  name  as  that  of  a  friend 
of  his  father's,  of  whom  he  had  often  heard  his  father 
speak  as  the  only  business-man  in  the  house.  He 
had,  therefore,  ventured  to  call  upon  him,  and  begged 
to  know  if  he  would  furnish  him  with  a  hundred 
dollars,  on  receipt  of  a  telegram  from  his  father  saying 
that  it  was  all  right.  The  gentleman,  very  much  pre- 
possessed in  the  young  man's  favor  by  the  combined 
frankness  and  dignity  of  his  demeanor,  and  perfectly 
recollecting  the  phrase  which  his  father  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  using,  hastened  to  assure  him  of  his  readiness 
to  assist  him  in  every  way  ;  and  was  about  to  add  that 
he  would  give  him  the  money  on  the  spot  without 
waiting  for  the  telegram,  but  thought  better  of  it,  and 
asked  him,  instead,  whether  he  was  at  all  familiar  with 
the  city.  The  young  man  replied  that  he  was  not, 
never  having  been  in  it  till  that  morning. 

"Then,"  said  the  gentleman,  "as  my  carriage  is 
coming  immediately,  I  will  telegraph  to  your  father 
myself,  and  save  you  the  trouble  ;  and  the  money  shall 
be  ready  for  you  when  you  call." 

14* 


162  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

The  young  man  thanked  him,  and  took  courteous 
leave.  The  telegraph  brought,  from  the  gentleman 
appealed  to,  the  reply,  that  he  had  no  grown-up  son ; 
that  all  his  children  were  small,  and  all  were  at  home 
with  him. 

The  young  gentleman  never  returned  for  his  hundred 
dollars. 

There  is  another  class,  a  sort  of  cross  between 
beggars  and  work-people,  —  women  who  ask  to  do 
washing  for  you,  and,  when  they  have  spoiled  your 
laces  and  muslins,  will  take  no  pay  for  it ;  but  if  you 
will  get  their  bo}^  a  place  in  the  department !  —  meriy, 
hearty  women,  who  will  accept  any  thing,  and  inveigle 
for  more  before  }rour  very  eyes. 

"  You  know  that  coat  3^011  gave  me,"  says  one  of 
these  jolly  beggars.  "  I  ripped  the  tails  off,  and  made 
a  jacket  for  my  man.  People  say,  '  Where  did  you 
get  this  nice  coat ; '  and  I  say,  '  Why,  the  Hon.  Judge 
Smith  gave  it  to  me.'  (The  Hon.  Judge  Smith  never 
having  been  inside  a  court-room  in  his  life.)  '  Look 
at  this  cloth,'  I  say  to  'em.  '  See  how  fine  it  is ! 
You  wouldn't  catch  the  Hon.  Judge  Smith  wearing 
any  thing  but  fine  cloth.' " 

To  such  adroit  compliments  can  you  refuse  an  old 
waistcoat,  even  if  the  Hon.  Judge  Smith  must  wear 
his  coat  close  buttoned  to  the  chin  in  consequence  ? 

Sometimes  they  sue  for  sewing.     They  always  come 


OUR  CHARITIES.  163 

with  verbal  recommendations  from  Mrs.  Admiral  This, 
or  Mrs.  Secretary  That,  or  Mrs.  Minister  Tother.  The 
plain  Mrs.  Jones,  Brown,  and  Robinson  receive  scant 
courtesy  from  these  dames  of  the  needle.  In  an 
experimental,  or  a  quixotic,  or  a  philanthropic  mood, 
3rou  suddenly  take  one  of  them  at  her  word,  and  intro- 
duce her  to  3'our  happy  home.  She  has  just  been  two 
months  at  Mrs.  Senator  Irving' s,  can  cut  and  make 
all  sorts  of  children's  clothes,  can  run  a  machine,  and 
will  rent  one  for  you  at  five  dollars  a  month,  and  just 
finish  your  whole  season's  sewing  at  one  smart  swoop. 
Her  buoyanc}r  and  confidence  are  contagious  ;  and  you 
meditate  a  general  clearance  of  the  sewing-room. 
Alas  !  the  very  first  overskirt  gives  signs  of  woe.  The 
waist  is  a  total  wreck.  Puffs  swell  awry  ;  gaps  yawn 
tremendous ;  seams  close  untimely.  Material  for  two 
is  swallowed  up  by  one,  and  that  a  failure.  Still  she 
cuts  and  sews,  and  sews  and  cuts,  like  one  possessed 
with  an  evil  spirit.  The  sewing-machine  becomes  a 
hungry  monster,  gobbling  up  dry-goods  with  insatiate 
maw.  Your  one  object  is  to  get  this  Witch  of  Endor 
out  of  the  house  before  you  are  quite  stripped  of  your 
possessions.  At  the  end  of  three  da}^s,  by  force  of 
hard  money  and  soft  words,  Sindbad  frees  himself  from 
his  old  man ;  and  you  stand  in  jTour  sewing-room, 
which  looks  as  if  a  whirlwind  had  swept  through  it, 
feeling  that  you  would  gladly  pay  the  money  over 


164  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

again,  if  you  could  but  be  put  back  to  the  place  whence 
3011  started,  }Tet  thankful  that  any  thing  has  escaped 
from  the  general  wreck. 

Next  day  there  comes  in  a  bill  of  fifty-five  dollars 
for  a  sewing-machine. 

Separate  from  all  these  is  another  class,  —  the  real 
poor,  the  poverty-stricken,  maimed,  halt,  and  blind, 
deformed  children,  squalid  children,  ragged  be}*ond 
the  verge  of  decency,  dirty,  famished,  pitiable,  — 
14  creation's  blot,  creation's  blank."  You  cannot  help 
them.  You  can  only  give  to  them  as  the}^  come,  from 
day  to  day,  tiding  them  over  from  one  wretched  hour 
to  another.  Whence  they  come,  or  whither  they  go, 
you  cannot  divine.  Must  the}'  not  burrow  in  the 
ground  like  moles?  Out  of  their  ranks,  I  fancy,  come 
the  newsboys,  who  seem  to  be  a  more  miserable,  filthy, 
and  forlorn  set  of  bo}Ts  than  are  ever  seen  elsewhere. 
Their  pinched  old  faces,  apparently,  lack  the  humor 
that  enlivens  the  Northern  newsboys ;  and  any  thing 
more  hideous  is  seldom  heard  than  the  laugh  which 
accompanies  the  Washington  newsboys'  proffer  of  a 
paper. 

Ingenuit}7,  Irypocrisy,  deception,  one  does  not  look 
for  in  these  unhappy  creatures  ;  yet  I  would  fain  hope 
the}'  are  less  unhappy  than  they  seem.  Painful  to  the 
eye,  hopeless  to  the  heart,  they,  and  such  as  they,  are 
the  insoluble  problem   of  the  world.     Making   every 


OUR   CHARITIES.  165 

possible  allowance  for  that  power  of  becoming  used  to 
tilings,  which,  according  to  Plato,  is  a  gift  of  the  gods, 
and  which  needs  must  soften  their  hard  lot,  rendering 
less  sharply  bitter  what  nothing  can  make  sweet,  it 
still  remains,  that  unconsciousness  of  evil  is  the  last, 
worst  result  of  evil.  And,  for  a  life  so  harsh,  nothing 
can  atone,  —  nothing  in  this  world ;  but,  in  some  of 
the  pleasant  stars  that  go  shiniug  through  the  sky, 
may  not  the  Father  of  all  have  prepared  a  clean  and 
wholesome  place  for  these  neglected  little  ones?  — 
some  pure  and  perfect  world,  where  light  and  love 
may  find  them  ;  where  all  the  defilement  of  earth  shall 
be  cleansed  from  them,  and  all  the  abasement  of  earth 
shall  vanish  away ;  where,  in  the  ministrations  of 
unwearying  care,  and  the  unfolding  of  repressed  ten- 
dencies, all  memory  of  degradation  shall  fade  into  a 
dim  far-off  dream,  whose  only  power  shall  be  to  lend 
an  ever-keener  joy  to  the  happiness  of  their  ever- 
brightening  home  ? 

But  I  do  not  set  the  Rev.  Dr.  Adams  on  that  star  ; 
at  least,  not  yet.  Late  may  he  return  to  those  skies, 
and  never  until  he  has  cast  off  his  black  coat,  and  torn 
off  his  white  choker,  and  turned  into  a  retired  clergy- 
man, whose  sands  of  life  shall  henceforth  run  out 
honestly.  For  him  no  shining  star,  but  a  lonely 
journey  on  the  melancholy  moon,  and  on  its  dark  side 
too ;  for  all  home,  a  crag  in   that  worn-out  world,  a 


166  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

sharp  coal-peak  on  that  burnt-up  cinder,  companioned 
only  by  the  ghosts  of  dead  generations,  where  he  may 
bemoan  himself  for  the  brother-clerg}'man,  who  lived 
only  in  his  own  wicked  heart ;  since,  doubtless,  nothing 
short  of  the  moon  will  bring  this  obdurate  and  deco- 
rous sinner  to  repentance. 


KELIGIOUS  BEGGAEY. 


RELIGIOUS   BEGGARY. 

HERE  is  no  such  thing  as  religious  beggary. 
All  beggarj"  is  irreligious.  A  "converted 
Jew"  walks  through  the  country  village, 
asking  the  hard-working  farmers  to  help  him  prosecute 
his  studies,  preparatory  to  going  back  to  Jerusalem, 
and  converting  his  brethren.  He  presents  on  a  paper 
the  names  of  several  neighboring  clergymen,  by  way 
of  indorsement,  some  one  of  whom  has  also  given  him 
a  list  of  the  persons  upon  whom  it  will  be  worth  his 
while  to  call.  I  survey  him,  —  an  able-bodied  young 
man,  lounging  across  the  country  in  a  decent  coat, 
daring  to  ask  alms  of  men  who  toil  from  sunrise  to 
sunset  in  shirt-sleeves,  —  a  strong  man,  with  muscles 
in  his  arms,  daring  to  ask  bounty  of  women ;  and  I 
think  the  Jews  might  as  well  stay  unconverted.  A  self- 
supporting  Jew  is  better  than  a  beggarly  Christian. 
Why  will  clergymen  countenance  such  riff-raff  ?  Why 
will  they  bring  conversion  into  contempt  by  making  it 
a  vagabond's  profession?  What  is  it  that  causes 
clerical  and  ecclesiastical  mendicancy  to  be  honorable, 

15  169 


170  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

while  social  and  secular  mendicancy  is  disgraceful? 
Can  beggar}*  be  baptized  into  the  name  of  Christ? 
Does  the  abnegation  of  self  mean  the  abnegation  of 
self-respect  ? 

A  little  while  ago,  while  walking  home  from  church 
on  Sunday,  we  were  assailed  by  a  decently  dressed 
beggar-boy,  asking  money  to  send  the  gospel  to  the 
heathen.  One  might  have  supposed  it  was  an  ingen- 
ious species  of  fraud,  adapted  to  church-goers :  but 
the  boy  declared  that  he  was  no  impostor,  that  his 
Sunday-school  teacher  had  just  given  him  his  commis- 
sion ;  and  he  produced  a  paper,  showing  that  he  had 
actually  been  sent  out  into  the  street  as  a  common 
beggar,  on  the  sabbath-da}',  with  some  trumped-up 
story  about  the  heathen.  This  country,  not  long  ago, 
entertained  a  company  of  heathen  for  several  weeks ; 
and  it  is  safe  to  hazard  the  assertion  that  not  one  of 
them  was  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor  surpassing  this. 
Such  Sunday-school  teachers  are  corrupters  of  the 
young :  such  Sunday-schools  are  nurseries  of  vice. 
They  tend  to  all  manner  of  craft  and  cunning.  Let 
Sunday-school  teachers  go  and  stand  themselves,  hat 
in  hand,  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  if  they  like  ;  let 
them  bandage  their  arms,  or  blind  their  eyes,  and 
adopt  a  dog  and  a  string  as  additional  persuasives  to 
early  piety  ;  or  perhaps  a  hand-organ  and  a  monkey 
might  bring  more  money  into  the  treasury  of  the  Lord 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  171 

from  the  pockets  of  church-goers :  but  let  them  do 
this  beggar's  work  themselves,  and  not  tamper  with 
the  children.  The  worst  count  in  the  indictment 
against  Jeroboam,  the  son  of  Nebat,  was,  not  that  he 
sinned  himself,  but  that  he  made  Israel  to  sin.  Ec- 
clesiastical Fagins  may  even  pick  pockets  with  what 
dexterity  the  service  of  the  sanctuary  seems  to  them 
to  require ;  but  we  do  not  care  to  have  even  our 
work' us  boys  turned  into  Artful  Dodgers. 

Speaking  of  pickpockets,  once  there  was  a  church 
that  wanted  a  new  bell.  If  a  cotton-factory  were  in  a 
similar  predicament,  it  would  take  its  own  money,  and 
buy  a  bell,  or  go  without.  But  we  change  all  that 
when  we  experience  a.  "  change  of  heart."  Accord- 
ingly, this  church  took  the  more  excellent  and  ecclesi- 
astical wa}r,  of  going  around  with  a  subscription-paper 
among  the  "  outs  "  and  the  "ins,"  Christian  or  infidel 
(all  is  fish  in  which  can  be  found  a  piece  of  money)  ; 
and,  having  mulcted  the  community  in  a  goocuy  sum, 
this  enterprising  church  changed  its  mind,  broke  out 
into  a  local  honest}-,  appropriated  the  money  to  pa}- 
its  debts,  and,  after  a  while,  started  on  another  tour  of 
bell- wringing. 

"  Half -pence  and  farthings 
Say  the  bells  of  St.  Martin's," 

calling  to  the  worship  of  Mammon. 


172  SERMONS  TO  TIIE  CLERGY. 

"  Leave  is  light,"  thought  another  church  which 
applied  to  Demetrius,  the  silversmith,  for  his  aid  in 
replacing  their  old  communion-service  with  a  new  one, 
although  Demetrius  confessed  another  creed.  Deme- 
trius being  a  generous  man,  with  the  instincts  of  a 
gentleman,  and  as  yet  unhardened  hy  ecclesiastical 
practices,  asked  how  much  money  was  required,  and, 
to  prevent  the  necessity  of  further  begging,  offered  to 
furnish  a  new  service,  and  pay  all  the  cost,  bejond 
what  the  proposed  sale  of  the  old  one  should  bring, 
out  of  his  own  pocket.  In  due  time  the  work  was 
done,  at  an  outlay  considerably  larger  than  the  origi- 
nal estimate  ;  and  the  gift  was  received  by  the  church 
with  the  grateful  and  pleasant  suggestion,  that,  if 
Demetrius  chose  to  bear  the  whole  cost,  the  money 
arising  from  the  sale  of  the  former  plate  should  be 
devoted  to  replenishing  the  Sunday-school  library.  In 
the  world,  this  would  be  called  greed  and  grossness  ; 
but,  in  the  Church,  it  is  only  that  "  the  zeal  of  thine 
house  hath  eaten  me  up,"  — hath,  at  least,  eaten  out  of 
me  the  unregenerate  virtues  of  delicac}',  modesty,  and 
propriety,  the  sense  of  Christian  and  even  of  Pagan 
courtesy,  and  made  me,  instead  of  a  self-respecting, 
high-minded  Christian  gentleman,  a  bold  and  shameless 
beggar. 

Motive  does  not  affect  such  deeds.  Bad  manners  in 
the  world  do  not  become  good  manners  by  ' i  joining 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  173 

the  church."  Brass  in  the  street  is  not  gold  in  the 
pews.  The  whine  of  a  beggar  is  not  music,  because 
played  on  a  Jew^'s-harp.  You  might  just  as  well  ask 
3'our  neighbors  to  put  a  piazza  on  your  dwelling,  as 
neighboring  churches  to  put  a  bell  on  your  meeting- 
house. I  have  my  own  heathen  constituency :  it  is  an 
impertinence  to  ask  me  to  look  after  yours.  We 
inveigh,  justly  enough,  against  political  corruption. 
We  do  not  believe  that  all  the  money  which  is  raised 
for  elections  goes  to  circulate  documents,  or  transport 
voters,  but  that  many  a  stream  deviates  into  dishon- 
est pockets.  The  raising  and  the  managing  of  church 
funds  may  not  be  open  to  the  same  objections  ;  but, 
considering  the  higher  plane  of  Church  than  State, 
they  are  equally  unsatisfactor}'.  We  have  departed  as 
far  from  piety  as  politics  from  honest}" ;  and  it  is  not 
unquestionable  that  we  have  always  saved  honesty 
intact.  "  Let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right 
hand  doeth,"  sa}Ts  Christ ;  and  we  send  a  subscription- 
paper  around  the  parish,  with  every  man's  gift  against 
his  name  ;  the  big  figures  at  the  top,  to  be  seen  of  all, 
the  little  ones  following  suit  in  a  pell-mell  of  publicity. 
"  Whosoever  is  of  a  willing  heart,  let  him  bring  it,  an 
offering  of  the  Lord,'*  was  the  divine  way  of  building 
churches.  And  "  they  came,  every  one  whose  heart 
stirred  him  up,  and  every  one  whom  his  spirit  made 
willing."     We  do  not  trust  a  man's  heart  to  stir  him 

15* 


174  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

up,  nor  his  spirit  to  make  kirn  willing.  If  there  is  a 
church  to  be  built  or  rebuilt,  or  a  debt  to  be  paid, 
we  engineer  it,  from  the  first  stage  of  reluctance  to 
the  last  announcement  of  success.  We  have  private 
conferences,  and  well-selected  committees,  and  public 
meetings,  minutely  prepared  for  well-manufactured, 
spontaneous  enthusiasm.  It  is  edifying  to  read  in  the 
religious  newspapers,  that  the  Church  of  Sardis  has,  by 
a  freewill  and  united  offering,  removed  the  heavy  debt 
under  which  it  had  been  suffering  since  the  erection  of 
its  new  house  ;  so  niauy  members  coming  forward  with 
five  thousand  dollars,  so  many  with  three  thousand,  so 
man}-  with  one  thousand,  cheering  the  heart  of  their 
pastor,  and  reviving  the  faith  of  the  saints.  But  it  is 
not  edifying  alwa}'s  to  hear  the  remarks  the  saints 
make  at  home,  touching  the  manipulations  and  manoeu- 
vres by  which  they  have  been  forced  to  volunteer.  If 
the  freewill  offering  of  the  Israelites  were  like  many 
of  ours,  Bezaleel,  the  son  of  Uri,  and  Aholiab,  the 
son  of  Ahisamach,  must  have  heard  some  pretty  plain 
talk. 

In  the  Protestant  Church  we  have  abolished  priest- 
hood ;  but  mendicanc}',  prevented  from  concentrating 
itself  in  a  single  order,  has  become  diffused  through 
all  orders.  It  is  not  strange  that  the  lay  mind  becomes 
confused  when  clerical  views  are  vague.  "  If  golde 
ruste,  what  shulde  iren  do?"     The  laborer,  whether 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  175 

clergyman  or  farmer,  is  worthy  of  his  hire ;  but  the 
clergyman  and  the  farmer  stand  on  entirely  different 
grounds.  The  farmer  sells  a  bushel  of  potatoes,  a  ton 
of  hay,  and  receives  the  price  agreed  on ;  and  that  is 
the  end  of  the  matter.  The  clerg}Tnan  receives  his 
stipulated  one,  two,  five,  thousand  dollars  a  year,  but 
is  never  let  alone.  Somebody,  generally  a  woman,  is 
evermore  perambulating  the  parish,  gathering  dimes 
and  dollars  to  buy  the  minister's  wife  a  set  of  furs,  or 
himself  a  silk  gown,  or  a  carpet  for  their  parlor,  or,  in 
a  general  wa}-,  to  make  them  a  present,  or  get  up  a 
surprise-donation-party,  till  ministers  have  lost  some- 
what of  manhood.  Something  sturdy,  self-reliant, 
independent,  upright,  and  downright,  has  gone  out  of 
the  profession.  Ministers  will  permit,  will  even  invite, 
what  other  men  would  resent.  The  merchant  in  a  city, 
the  shoemaker  in  a  country  village,  would  feel  dis- 
graced by  a  contribution-paper  going  about  town  to 
collect  mone}r  to  bu}T  himself  a  coat.  The  lawyer's 
wife  would  rather  wear  calico  all  her  life  than  levy 
tribute  on  the  parish  for  a  silk.  But  the  minister  and 
the  minister's  wife  will  wear  the  contributed  clothes, 
and  make  a  note  of  it  for  the  religious  newspaper.  The 
school-teacher  surveys  his  district,  builds  or  buys  such 
a  house  as  he  can,  and,  if  not  able  to  do  either,  rents 
a  tenement,  or  boards,  and  betters  himself  as  soon  as 
possible.     Ministers   are   willing   to  be   accounted    a 


176  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

feeble  folk,  for  whom  houses  should  be  provided,  with- 
out responsibility  of  their  own ;  and  this  unmanly 
self-surrender  loses  its  sting  b}r  christening  the  house  a 
parsonage.  The  carpenter  who  wants  to  take  his  wife 
on  a  summer-trip  to  the  White  Mountains  waits  till 
he  has  earned  enough  to  do  so  at  his  own  expense ; 
but  some  rich  deacon,  or  "  active  brother,"  is  expected 
to  take  the  minister,  and  pay  the  bills.  And  the  min- 
ister not  only  suffers  these  things,  but  takes  pleasure 
in  them  that  do  them,  and  sometimes  feel  aggrieved  if 
they  are  not  done ;  and  sends  a  note  to  the  religious 
newspapers,  suggesting  or  affirming  that  they  should  be 
done.  A  minister  of  aesthetic  tendencies  has  his. 
rooms  frescoed  by  a  painter  who  has  recently  joined 
his  congregation.  After  waiting  a  reasonable  time, 
the  painter  sends  in  his  bill.  The  clergyman  returns 
an  injured-innocence  sort  of  note,  saying  that  he  had 
not  expected  to  be  called  upon  to  pay ;  but  he  will 
settle  the  bill  as  soon  as  he  can,  though  not  immedi- 
ately, as  he  shall  have  to  save  the  money  out  of  his 
salary.  The  painter,  being  a  gentleman,  immediately 
sends  him  a  receipted  bill ;  and  the  minister,  being  a 
—  minister,  accepts  it.  But  upon  what  ground  should 
he  expect  to  be  frescoed  for  nothing?  Why  is  it  a 
grievance  for  a  minister  to  pay  his  bills  out  of  his 
salary  ?  What  else  is  his  salary  for  ?  The  blacksmith 
never  asks  his  neighbor  the  mason  to  give  him  money 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  177 

to  bu}r  his  wife  trinkets,  or  to  treat  him  to  a  pleasure- 
excursion.  Why  is  it  better  manners  for  the  minister  ? 
The  little  boy  is  taught  that  it  is  very  impolite  to  go  to 
a  companion's  house,  and  ask,  or  even  hint,  for  plum- 
cake.  Wiry  is  it  polite  for  his  father  to  ask  in  the 
religious  newspaper,  or  hint  in  any  way,  that  his  com- 
panion should  join  hand  in  hand  to  give  him  the  plum- 
cake  that  his  soul  longs  for?  But  the  religious 
newspapers  blossom  with  hints  and  downright  exhorta- 
tions to  parishes  to  make  presents  to  their  ministers, 
to  take  them  on  journe}'s,  to  pay  their  expenses  to 
national  councils.  There  is  often  a  certain  space 
devoted  to  a  record  of  the  presents  thus  made  ;  for 
indelicacy  has  come  to  such  a  pass,  that  donors  do 
not  sometimes  neglect  to  stipulate  with  the  donee, 
that  their  donations  shall  be  given  the  publicity  of 
print ;  and,  on  the  side  of  the  clergy,  the  argu- 
ment is  unblushingly  used,  that  the  facts  are  bruited 
for  the  sake  of  stirring  up  other  parishes  to  make 
similar  presents  to  their  pastors.  The  resources  of 
ingenuity  are  exhausted  in  devising  pleasant  and 
playful  metaphors  to  describe  the  presentation ;  and 
sometimes  the  statement  is  as  formal  and  crisp  as  an 
advertisement.  Donation-parties  are  occasionally 
made  the  object  of  a  little  gentle  satire  ;  but  it  is  not 
because  they  are  donation-parties,  but  because  the 
donations   are   not  big   enough.     "  According  to  the 


178         SERMONS   TO   TEE   CLERGY. 

ecclesiastical  almanac,"  says  a  religious  paper,  "  now 
is  the  time  for  ministers  to  '  look  out  for  donation- 
parties  ;  '  which,  in  the  words  of  one  of  their  number, 
'  are  cheerful  gatherings,  when  a  clerg}'man's  flock 
overwhelm  him  with  bead  watch-pockets,  and  eat  up 
about  one  hundred  and  twelve  dollars'  worth  of  his 
winter  provisions.'  " 

Here  is  a  good  text  for  the  religious  journal.  An 
excellent  sermon  could  be  preached  upon  donation- 
parties  in  general,  — the  evils  from  which  the}T  spring, 
the  evils  which  they  engender,  and  the  propriety  of 
their  discontinuance.  But  the  religious  journal  only 
draws  the  very  mild  moral,  "Nevertheless,  a  good 
donation-party  is  a  good  thing.  Try  it,  flocks,  and  let 
the  ministers  see."  It  is  not  that  flocks  break  into 
the  parsonage  with  their  cumbrous  fleece :  it  is  that 
the}r  only  rub  up  against  it,  leaving  bits  of  stray  wool. 
If  they  would  shear  close  enough,  there  would  be  no 
fault  found.  Indeed,  the  amount  of  fleece  left  is  get- 
ting to  be  the  measure  of  grace  received.  I  read  in  a 
missionar}-  report,  that  "  Our  associates,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
S.,  are  meeting  with  great  success  among  the  natives 
of  N.  During  the  seven  weeks  we  were  absent,  they 
received  more  presents  from  our  people  than  I  had  for 
eight  3rears.  And  Mr.  S.  had  made  such  progress  in 
the  language,  that  he  occupied  the  pulpit  three  sab- 
baths, discoursing  in  the  native  language.     This  is  a 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  179 

most  hopeful  beginning  for  the  missionary  work." 
Most  hopeful  indeed.  "  Rev.  A.  B.  C.  and  wife,"  we 
are  told,  "  were  favored  with  a  very  pleasant  visit  and 
valuable  gifts  from  his  people,  on  the  tenth  anniversary 
of  his  marriage.  Great  harmony  prevails ;  and  a 
gracious  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  has  been  enjoyed." 

Grace  and  greenbacks  are  the  two  horns  of  the 
altar.  A  "  precious  revival,"  and  "  a  purse  of  money 
and  other  gifts,  amounting  in  value  to  sevent3'-five 
dollars,"  enjoy  the  honors  of  the  same  paragraph.  A 
gifted  3'oung  brother  preaches  to  the  heathen  in  their 
own  tongue,  and  draws  more  money  out  of  their 
pockets  in  .seven  weeks  than  his  less  eloquent  prede- 
cessor had  done  in  eight  years.  The  power  of  the 
gospel  is  seen  in  a  whole  parish's  coming  together  in 
the  vestry  to  present  the  minister's  wife  with  a 
thimble,  and  the  minister  himself  with  a  gold-headed 
cane  —  as  if  the  kingdom  of  heaven  were  to  be  taken 
by  violence.  The  number  of  young  converts  gathered 
into  the  church,  and  the  market- value  of  the  beef  and 
cheese  contributed  by  the  old  converts,  are  reported 
with  equal  precision  ;  and  it  is  counted  for  distinguished 
disinterestedness,  if  the  minister  looks  around  upon 
the  dried  apples  and  salt  pork  left  by  the  receding 
donation- tide,  and  exclaims,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
"  Not  yours,  but  you  !  " 

"  Let  every  church,"  says  the  religious  newspaper, 


180  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

"whether  rich  or  poor,  contribute,  of  such  as  the}r 
have,  to  form  a  fund  to  enable  their  pastor  to  take  such 
jonrnej's  as  are  expedient.  By  his  attendance  on  the 
associations,  conferences,  and  conventions,  —  meetings 
so  closel}-  allied  to  the  best  interests  of  the  Church,  — 
he  will  be  so  stimulated  and  refreshed,  that  the  enrich- 
ing which  his  people  have  bestowed  on  him  will  be 
returned  to  them  fourfold.  This  fund  may  be  called 
'The  People's  Relief-Fund,'  or  '  The  Minister's  Travel- 
ling-Fund.' Let  the  people  try  this  ;  and,  certain  it  is, 
that  they  will  be  relieved  of  a  dull  minister. ' ' 

They  will  be  relieved  of  him  while  he  is  gone  to  his 
county  conference ;  but  they  will  be  surprised  to  find 
how  short  the  time  seems  before  he  is  back  on  their 
hands  again.  To  hire  a  dull  minister,  and  then  hire 
him  to  go  away,  is  burning  }Tour  candle  at  both  ends. 
Would  it  not  be  cheaper  to  hire  a  bright  one  in  the 
beginning?  The  notion  that  a  dull  minister  is  to  be 
sharpened  up  b}r  conferences  and  conventions  is  pre- 
posterous. They  are  far  more  likely  to  fritter  away 
an  able  man's  power.  Doubtless,  for  certain  purposes 
and  to  a  certain  extent,  conference  is  useful ;  but  the 
multiplication,  in  our  da}r,  of  associations  and  con- 
sociations, of  convention  and  council,  is  airy  thing  but 
conducive  to  intellectual  or  moral  vigor.  No  doubt 
suggestions  are  sometimes  made,  and  thoughts  eluci- 
dated ;  but  we  are  oftener  reminded  of  Mr.  Weller  and 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  181 

the  alphabet,  and  ask,  "  Is  it  worth  while  to  go  through 
so  much  to  get  so  little?  "  Any  thing  like  a  mental 
shock  is  studiously  avoided.  The  questions  which  are 
really  questions  are  left  outside,  or  represented  only 
by  persons  of  our  own  faith  ;  and  what  is  admitted  is 
that  which  is,  in  the  main,  universally  assumed.  Our 
National  Council  in  Boston  m&y  have  been  greatty 
productive  of  good  fellowship  and  good  feeling,  and, 
so  far,  a  good  thing  ;  but  as  an  exponent  of  religious 
belief,  as  a  simplifierof  theological  creed,  as  an  organ- 
ism of  faith  or  polity,  did  not  the  mountain  bring  forth 
a  mouse  ?  The  great  object  of  the  council  seemed  to  be 
to  keep  hands  off.  The  great  aim  was,  how  not  to  do 
it.  But  why  come  up  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  to 
declare  our  adherence  to  the  articles  which  our  fathers 
set  forth  or  re-afflrmed?  That  goes  without  saying. 
Life  and  thought  have  changed  since  the  days  of  our 
fathers  ;  and,  if  we  want  to  know  any  thing,  it  is  how 
we  stand  affected  by  this  change.  To  say  that  we  are 
not  affected  at  all  is  to  sa}-  that  we  have  a  name  to 
live,  and  are  dead. 

The  chances  are,  that  the  association,  the  conference, 
the  convention,  will  travel  around  in  the  same  orbit, 
and  on  the  same  plane,  as  the  dull  minister.  He  will 
be  stimulated  and  refreshed  to  pursue,  upon  his  return, 
the  precise  path  which  has  alread}^  led  him  to  failure. 
If  the  People's  Relief-Fund  would  send  him  to  a  politi- 
16 


182  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

cal  caucus,  to  the  gaming-tables  of  Hamburg,  to  the 
Derb}-  Races,  to  the  Louisiana  legislature,  to  a  travel- 
ling circus,  to  a  French  assembly,  or  a  London  dinner- 
table,  —  to  places  where  men  are  in  deadly,  if  wicked 
earnest,  or  places  where  he  will  be  dashed  out  of 
his  grooves,  and  into  new  contacts  and  courses,  —  the 
People's  Fund  might,  indeed,  afford  relief. 

But,  apart  from  the  wisdom  of  any  mode  of  apply- 
ing a  relief-fund,  why  should  the  suggestion  of  a 
relief-fund  be  made?  Why  should  the  farmers  and 
the  shoemakers  and  the  da}T-laborers  of  a  poor  church 
take  their  hard-earned  monej",  and  give  it  to  their 
pastor,  to  send  him  anywhere?  They  have  already 
paid  him  his  salary.  Why  must  they  give  him  gifts  ? 
They  need  their  surplus  earnings  as  much  as  he. 
Their  lives  are  more  limited  than  his.  Their  wives 
stay  at  home  from  year's  end  to  year's  end.  If  they 
have  any  money  to  spare,  let  them  take  their  own 
little  trip,  and  enlarge  their  views  to  broader  horizons. 
If  the  rich  merchant  choose  to  give  mone}'  to  his 
minister,  and  his  minister  choose  to  take  monej^  as  a 
gift,  it  is  their  own  affair.  But  for  an  educated  man 
to  take  the  money  of  uneducated  men  and  hard-working 
women,  and  spend  it  in  pleasure  and  recreation  ;  for 
religious  newspapers  to  urge  or  to  hint  that  the  hard- 
working men  and  women  should  thus  devote  their 
mone}T,  and   praise  them  without  stint  when  they  do 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  183 

thus  devote  it,  —  seems  not  high-minded,  seems  mean 
and  mercenary. 

A  parsonage  is  a  good  thing  in  many  respects. 
Very  few  ministers,  perhaps,  are  able  to  buy  or  to  build 
houses  ;  and  it  is  desirable  that  they  should  have  a  fixed 
home.  If  parishes  should  feel  that  the  parsonage  was 
as  much  a  part  of  their  responsibility  as  the  church, 
that  they  could  no  more  expect  a  minister  without  the 
one  than  without  the  other,  I  should  not  object.  We 
should  all  be  better,  if  ministers  were  so  able  that  they 
could  dictate  their  own  terms.  Whatever  the  parish 
in  its  own  interest,  from  a  business-point  of  sight, 
chooses  to  proffer,  it  need  not  be  unmanly  for  a  min- 
ister to  accept.  But  is  it  manly  for  him  to  ask  people 
to  provide  him  a  house  ?  Is  it  even  proper  or  neces- 
sar}r?  As  ministers  come  and  go,  there  are  very  few 
parishes  where  the}T  cannot  hire  a  house  for  as  long  a 
period  as  they  are  likely  to  sta}*.  Why  should  one 
man  in  a  town  be  freed  from  the  need  of  care  and 
thought  by  the  care  and  though?  of  other  men  ?  Is  it 
that  he  may  be  the  more  free  to  pursue  his  spiritual 
calling?  Come,  then,  the  celibate  clergy  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church !  Let  us  have  either  one 
thing  or  another,  —  either  a  celibate  priesthood,  with- 
out entangling  alliances,  wholly  devoted  and  subject 
to  the  Church ;  or  a  man  taking  care  of  himself  and 
his  wife  and  children,  precisely  like  other  men. 


184  SERMONS   TO  THE   CLERGY. 

A  woman  spends  her  prime  in  teaching  the  children 
of  her  native  town  at  a  third,  or  a  half,  or  a  quarter, 
what  the  minister  receives  ;  and  boards  in  her  father's 
house,  or  wherever  she  can  find  shelter.  No  one  ever 
thinks  of  building  her  a  house,  or  giving  her  a  quit- 
claim deed  on  a  single  apartment  in  anybody's  house. 
The  person  who  teaches  your  children  six  hours  a  day 
for  five  days  in  the  week  has,  apparently,  a  greater 
influence  on  the  next  generation  than  he  who  preaches 
to  grown-up  people  two  hours  a  day  once  a  week. 
That  person  needs,  just  as  much,  freedom  from  material 
care  ;  and,  if  a  woman,  she  has  immeasurably  less 
chance  for  securing  such  exemption.  But  the  women 
of  a  parish,  who  never  think  of  providing  a  domicile 
for  their  townswoman,  will  meet  at  each  other's  houses 
to  knit  toes  and  heels  to  coarse  woollen  stockings, 
at  sevent}r-five  cents  a  dozen  pairs,  to  provide  a 
house  for  an  able-bodied  man.  I  should  not  think 
a  man  would  like  to  live  in  such  a  house.  It  cannot 
be  a  pleasant  thing  fot"  a  man  to  look  around  upon  his 
wainscots  and  windows,  and  reflect  that  a  dozen  or 
twenty  women,  by  "working  smartlv,"  finished  a 
dozen  pairs  of  stockings  in  three  evenings,  and,  with 
the  seventy-five  cents  therefor  received,  built  up  pain- 
fullj'  the  roof  that  shelters  him.  It  is  a  reform  against 
nature.  If  ministers  will  not  let  women  preach, 
neither  should  they  let  them  build.     If  they  do  not 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  185 

want  women  to  become  men,  they  should  play  the  man 
themselves.  It  is  certainly  no  more  unwomanly  to 
occupy  a  man's  pulpit  than  to  rear  a  man's  house. 
But  a  woman  in  the  pulpit  sets  a  whole  presbytery  to 
cackling  ;  while  a  woman  may  build  a  Presbyterian 
parsonage  from  turret  to  foundation-stone,  and  not  a 
clergyman  of  them  all  will  move  the  wing,  or  open 
the  mouth,  or  peep. 

"Who  says  that  we  have  no  'plain  speaking'  in 
the  pulpit,  these  da}Ts,"  asks  a  religious  newspaper, 
"  when  the  Massachusetts  preacher  can  be  named 
who  uttered  the  following  in  a  recent  sermon  ?  — 

"  '  Some  of  the  ladies  of  the Church  may  say, 

that,  if  they  lived  in  Christ's  time,  he  should  have  made 
their  house  his  home,  nor  suffered  for  the  lack  of  any 
hospitality  they  could  furnish.  But  I  think  he  would 
have  gone  homeless  for  all  you  would  have  clone  for 
him.  And  here  is  why  I  think  so  :  you  allowed  me  to 
pay  the  hotel-bills  of  every  minister  who  supplied  the 
pulpit  while  I  was  in a  few  months  ago.'  " 

If  a  teacher  hire  a  substitute  during  his  absence, 
does  he  expect  the  committee  to  pay  that  substitute's 
hotel-bills?  If  a  treasury  clerk  put  his  brother  in  his 
place  during  his  extra  furlough,  does  he  expect  the 
government  to  pay  his  brother's  board?  Why  should 
the  church  pay  the  hotel-bills  of  the  substitute  any 
more  than  the  butcher's  bills  of  the  regular  preacher? 

16* 


136  SERMONS   TO   TI1E   CLERGY. 

At  the  outset,  the  church  agrees  to  pa}*  so  much  salary. 
It  is  no  more  incumbent  upon  the  church  to  entertain 
the  preacher's  guests,  be  the}*  substitutes  or  exchanges, 
than  it  is  incumbent  on  the  minister  to  entertain  the 
deacon's  son-in-law,  or  the  merchant's  aunts  and 
cousins.  Yet  this  preacher  has  the  profaneness,  the 
vulgarity,  the  assumption,  to  say,  that,  because  his 
church  did  not  pay  the  hotel-bills  of  his  hired  man, 
they  would  have  rejected  Christ.  The  religious  news- 
paper calls  this  "  plain  speaking  : "  I  call  it  brutality. 
The  minister  who  can  so  defile  his  pulpit  as  to  use  it 
for  such  purposes  is  not  fit  to  be  admitted  to  any 
lady's  house. 

Again  :  the  same  paper  says  it  hears  of  a  "  minister, 
who  lately  astounded  his  congregation  by  reading  '  out 
in  meeting  '  an  account  of  his  receipts  and  expenses  for 
the  year.  The  only  item  to  the  credit  of  the  richest 
member  of  his  flock  was  '  one  apple-pie.'  " 

This  seems  but  a  smart  joke  to  the  reverend  re- 
corder ;  and,  no  doubt  the  reverend  reader  thought  he 
had  scored  one  against  his  congregation  :  but  it  is  such 
things  as  these  that  lower  the  clergy  in  public  estima- 
tion, and  inspire  the  laity  with  disgust.  Why  should 
a  minister  be  going  over  his  accounts  on  Sunday,  any 
move  than  the  merchant  or  the  banker?  Why  should 
he  bring  his  private  affairs  into  the  great  congregation, 
any  more  than  the  milliner  or  the  cook?     If  he  is  dis- 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  187 

satisfied  with  the  bargain  which  he  made  with  the 
people,  or  if  they  do  not  fulfil  their  part  of  the  contract, 
there  are  places  and  times  when  it  is  proper  for  him  to 
enforce  his  contract,  or  to  secure  better  terms.  But 
to  take  his  account-book  into  church,  to  preach  his 
groceries  for  the  gospel,  to  feed  his  "  flock  "  with  stale 
bread  and  scant}T  steaks,  makes  his  pastorate  dear, 
even  at  the  price  of  one  apple-pie. 

What  is  the  quality  which  suggests  such  a  para- 
graph as  this? — "  As  a  St.  Louis  preacher  was  leaving 
the  church  last  Sunday,  an  appreciative  parishioner 
slipped  a  hundred-dollar-note  in  his  hand  as  a  reward 
for  his  excellent  sermon.  Perhaps,  if  there  were  more 
such  parishioners,  there  would  be  more  excellent  ser- 
mons." 

Is  it,  indeed,  only  the  voice  of  malice  and  all  un- 
charitableness  that  calls  ministers  mercenary?  I  have 
quoted  nothing  from  foes,  only  from  ministers  them- 
selves. Think  what  a  sermon  is  represented  to  be,  — 
the  message  of  God  to  man  b}T  his  appointed  and 
anointed  ambassador,  the  application  of  saving  truth 
to  souls  sore-wounded  and  shot  at  by  the  archers  of 
sin,  light  to  them  sitting  in  the  darkness,  salvation  to 
the  lost.  And  a  man,  an  ambassador  of  heaven,  will 
preach  Christ  and  him  crucified  with"  more  fervor  and 
unction,  if  a  hundred-dollar-note  awaits  him  now  and 
then  in  the  pews  below  ! 


188  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

Benighted  and  blind  leader  of  the  blind !  Thy 
money  perish  with  thee,  because  thou  hast  thought 
that  the  gift  of  God  ma}r  be  purchased  with  mone}'. 
Thou  hast  neither  part  nor  lot  in  this  matter ;  for 
thy  heart  is  not  right  in  the  sight  of  God.  Repent, 
therefore,  of  this  thy  wickedness,  and  pray  God,  if, 
perhaps,  the  thought  of  thine  heart  may  be  forgiven 
thee. 

I  do  not  join  in  the  outcry  that  the  clerg}^  are  mer- 
cenary. As  a  class,  they  are  not  mercenary.  They 
give  largely  in  proportion  to  their  means.  In  a  very 
large  diocese  of  clergymen,  I  know  not  a  single  one 
who  is  miserly,  or  who  is  even  charged  with  being 
mercenary.  Yet  the  responsibility  of  the  charge  rests 
chiefly  with  themselves.  It  is  because  clerg}Tmen  set 
up  a  standard  for  themselves  different  from  the  stand- 
ard of  other  men,  that  they  are  differently  judged. 
The}^  are  ridiculed,  not  for  exchanging  a  low  for  a 
high  salary,  but  because  they  insist  on  calling  the 
higher  salary  a  louder  call.  No  one  sa3Ts  aught 
against  the  country  school-teacher  who  goes  to  the 
city  schoolhouse,  or  the  author  who  sells  to  the  pub- 
lisher that  pays  the  best,  because  these  are  reckoned 
as  matters  of  legitimate  business.  But  the  clerg}Tman 
assumes  that  the  question  of  salary  does  not  enter  into 
his  profession.  lie  is  concerned  only  to  put  himself 
where  he  will  do  the  most  good.     Ministers   are  on 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  189 

precisely  the  same  ground  as  writers  and  other  clergy. 
An  author  is  entitled  to  sell  his  books  to  the  highest 
bidder.  But  the  author  who  lets  the  consideration  of 
mone3r  into  his  writing,  —  the  author  who  would  write 
better  for  ten  dollars  than  he  would  for  one  dollar,  — 
the  author,  who,  at  any  time  and  for  any  purpose, 
does  less  than  his  best,  is  mercenary,  and  unworthy  to 
be  an  author.  The  minister  may  lawfully,  manfully, 
and  religiously  go  where  he  maj^  receive  the  highest 
salar}" ;  but  no  consideration  of  salary  or  hundred- 
dollar-notes  may  ever  slip  into  the  fountain  whence 
his  sermon  springs.  And,  in  view  of  such  para- 
graphs as  this,  it  ma}T  be  questioned  whether  the  same 
public  sentiment  which  forbids  a  bribe  to  a  judge, 
which  has  taken  away  the  moiety  from  internal  reve- 
nue collectors,  which  frowns  upon  the  fee  to  waiters, 
should  not,  also,  investigate  the  system  of  gifts  to  the 
clergy.  But,  however  this  may  be,  there  can  be  but 
one  opinion,  — that  it  is  more  manly,  more  apostolic, 
more  devout,  to  settle  the  question  of  salary  in  pri- 
vate, and  in  a  business-like  manner,  than  it  is  to  dis- 
claim pecuniary  considerations  because  Christ  had 
not  where  to  la}^  his  head,  and  then  stand  up  in  the 
pulpit  to  flout  at  hotel-bills,  and  whine  over  an  apple- 
pie. 

If  the  minister's  be  a  peculiarly  sacred  calling  ;  if 
he  devote  himself  to  the  salvation  of  souls  ;  if  he  have 


190         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

sacrificed  all  hopes  of  making  a  fortune,  all  prospects 
of  personal  advancement,  to  the  cause  of  Christ ;  if 
it  be  proper  that  extraordinary  means  should  be  em- 
ployed to  assist  him,  because  he  has  performed  an  act 
of  extraordinary  self-abnegation,  —  what  then  ?  If  he 
have  only  shifted  the  burden  of  providing  himself 
with  luxuries  from  his  own  shoulders  to  other  peo- 
ple's, what  sort  of  self-abnegation  is  it?  A  minister 
is  expected  to  live,  and  generally  does  live,  in  as 
good  style  as  the  majority  of  his  people.  I  think  it  is 
safe  to  sa}^,  that  the  average  minister  occupies  as  high 
a  position,  has  as  many  of  the  comforts  and  luxuries 
of  life,  and  perhaps  as  much  money  to  spend,  as  he 
w'ould  have  done  in  any  other  occupation.  But  be 
that  as  it  may.  A  minister  adopts  his  profession, 
either  as  a  business  or  as  a  consecration.  It  ma}r, 
and  rightty,  be  both ;  but  it  must  be  one.  If  it  is 
a  consecration,  then  this  talk  about  parsonages  and 
donations  is  not  only  idle,  but  it  borders  on  the  pro- 
fane. Jesus  Christ  had  not  where  to  \&y  his  head. 
Must  those  who  call  him  "  Master,"  not  only  have  a 
place  to  lay  theirs,  but  have  it  secured  to  them  by 
title-deed,  hung  with  satin  paper,  carpeted  from  Brus- 
sels, and  stocked  with  winter  provisions  ?  To  go  cold 
and  hungiy  for  the  good  cause  is  a  sacrifice ;  but  to 
sit  still,  and  hint  to  other  people  to  haul  in  coal  and 
flour  and  sugar  for  3'ou  —  what  sacrifice  is  that  ?     To 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  191 

turn  away  from  costly  books  and  fine  pictures,  the 
desire  of  the  e}*es,  and  the  pride  of  life,  for  Christ's 
sake,  is  the  act  of  a  devotee ;  but  to  buy  yoxxv  books 
and  pictures,  and  have  your  church  come  in  at  the 
year's  end,  and  pay  your  debts  —  is  that  devotion?  I 
say  that  the  man  who  does  it  follows  no  more  closely 
the  footsteps  of  the  Master  than  he  who  goes  into  the 
"  cotton  trade  and  sugar  line,"  and  pays  his  own 
bills. 

Of  course,  it  is  absurd  and  unjust  to  ask  ministers 
to  suffer  privations.  Therefore,  it  is  absurd  to  put 
these  matters  on  other  than  a  business-ground.  A 
theological  student  may  be  never  so  conscientious  and 
consecrated ;  but  he  chooses  his  church  on  common 
business-principles,  as  it  is  proper  he  should.  The 
only  unwisdom  is  in  talking  as  if  he  did  not.  He 
never  remits  a  cent  of  his  salary  because  he  calls  his 
parish  a  field  of  labor.  When  he  leaves  that  parish 
for  another,  he  says  God  has  called  him  to  another 
field  of  labor  ;  and  the  dismissing, council  says,  Amen. 
But  all  it  realty  means  is,  that  the  people  are  tired  of 
him,  or  he  of  them  ;  or  his  salary  is  too  small ;  or  the 
house  is  damp,  and  the  situation  unhealthy ;  or  he 
wants  to  live  in  a  city  ;  or  preach  his  old  sermons  ;  or 
have  a  wider  scope.  God  calls  him  to  go  just  where 
the  minister  thinks,  on  the  whole,  he  would  rather  go. 
If  one  or  the  other  candidate  should  be  defeated  at  the 


192         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

next  election,  it  would  be  God  calling  them  to  another 
field  of  labor.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the 
Deit}r  is  not  just  as  much  concerned  with  the  shoe- 
maker who  moves  from  I/vnn  to  Boston,  in  prospect 
of  higher  wages,  and  better  lectures  and  concerts,  as 
with  the  minister  who  moves  from  Boston  to  New  York. 
God  calls  us  all,  and  in  onty  one  wa}T,  —  by  the  use  of 
our  own  reason ;  and  it  would  be  just  as  pious,  and  a 
great  deal  more  savory,  if  we  would  speak  of  it  in  a 
reasonable,  and  not  in  a  supernatural  way.  We  may 
be  perfectly  sure  of  our  motives  :  we  are  not  perfectly 
sure  what  God  thinks  about  it.  If  people  will  not 
come  to  church,  or  will  not  pay  their  minister's  salary, 
that  is  something  tangible  ;  but  precisely  what  attitude 
the  divine  Being  assumes  toward  it  is  another  thing. 
When  the  religious  newspaper  sa}Ts  that  one  of  the 
members  of  a  church  in  Chicago  "planned  a  large 
addition  to  his  dwelling ;  but,  after  the  cellar-walls 
were  completed,  the  work  ceased  for  about  one  year,  — 
the  reason  for  which,  it  was  said,  was,  being  president 
of  the  board  of  directors  of  the  Chicago  Theological 
Seminary,  and  seeing  its  pecuniary  wants  to  be  so 
pressing,  he  concluded  to  give  up  building,  and  appro- 
priate the  mone}T  to  the  relief  of  the  seminary,"  — we 
are  ready  to  receive  its  testimon}-,  because  it  testifies 
of  what  may  have  come  within  its  scope.  But  when  it 
goes  on  to  say,  "And,  as  another  proof  that  God  loves 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY,  193 

the  cheerful  giver,  his  place  of  business  was  the  only 
one  belonging  to  the  church  which  was  not  consumed,' ' 
we  are  constrained  to  enter  a  demurrer.  Was  the 
president  of  the  board  of  directors  of  the  Theological 
Seminary  the  onl}r  member  of  that  church  whom  God 
loved  ?  Was  there  no  cheerful  giver  in  all  that  burnt 
district,  but  him  who  gave  up  his  new  dining-room 
above  the  cellar- walls  ?  Is  not  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
O'Leary's  house  and  barn  were  the  only  ones  in  that 
quarter  not  burnt,  an  equally  conclusive  proof  that 
God  loves  the  woman  who  does  her  milking  by  a  kero- 
sene-lamp ?  Considering  that  Jesus  has  said  that  ' '  no 
man,  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking  back, 
is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God,"  and  that  "  whom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,"  it  is  quite  as  reasonable, 
and  quite  as  scriptural,  to  say  that  God  hated  the  pres- 
ident for  having  begun  to  enlarge  his  house,  and  not 
being  able  to  finish  it,  and  punished  him  by  leaving 
his  shop  standing  amid  desolation.  And  if  the  fire 
had  induced  Chicago  to  remove  its  business-centre, 
and  the  president's  property  should  thus  have  depreci- 
ated, Madam  President  would  be  perfectly  just  in  say- 
ing to  her  husband,  "  I  told  you  so.  You  ought  to 
have  finished  that  kitchen  while  you  were  about  it,  and 
have  been  burned  down  like  the  rest,  and  so  have 
reaped  all  the  advantage  of  taking  a  new  start." 

Is  the  work  of  God  injured  by  a  clergyman's  pros- 
17 


194  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

perity?  "  A  minister,"  says  a  high  clerical  authority, 
1 '  whom  the  question  of  money  or  fame  could  influence 
to  desert  a  more  useful  post  for  one  more  lucrative  or 
more  honored,  is  unworthy  of  that  Saviour,  who  .  .  . 
1  made  himself  of  no  reputation,'  and  became  exceed- 
ingly poor,  to  .  .  .  accomplish  man's  salvation.  He 
who  toils  and  suffers  like  Christ,  in  obscure  places, 
where  frowns  are  thicker  than  smiles  or  applause, 
shall,  like  him,  and  with  him,  be  at  last  exalted ;  and 
every  being  in  the  universe  shall  know  and  acknowledge 
the  excellence  of  his  motives,  and  the  success  of  his 
obscure  toils.  Christ  sa}'s,  '  If  any  man  serve  me, 
him  will  my  Father  honor.'  " 

It  is  true  that  the  gist  of  this  remark  is  the  exact 
opposite  of  what  it  is  supposed  and  intended  to  be. 
A  minister  is  not  to  be  influenced  by  fame,  because  — 
fame  is  one  of  the  strongest  motives  to  which  Christ 
appealed.  It  is  unworthy,  and  a  shame,  to  care  what 
others  say  about  3'ou.  Stay  where  }tou  are,  and  every 
being  in  the  universe  will  presently  applaud  you. 
The  writer  does  not  see  that  this  is  not  laj-ing  aside 
the  question  of  fame  and  honor,  but  putting  a  small 
and  immediate  fame  against  a  remote  and  world-wide 
renown.  Leaving  that  matter,  however,  the  point  to 
be  observed  is,  that  the  useful  and  obscure  place  is 
set  off  against  the  more  lucrative  and  more  honored 
post,  as  if  lucre  and  honor  were  separate  from  useful- 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  195 

ness.  But  do  not  the  very  characteristics  which  make 
a  ministry  lucrative  and  honorable,  b}^  that  token 
make  it  more  capable  of  usefulness?  We  cannot,  of 
course,  bring  a  mathematical  certainty  into  moral 
forces  ;  but  is  it  not  generally  considered  that  useful- 
ness increases  with  the  enlargement  of  one's  circle? 
The  man  who  is  known  by  six  men  may  be  just  as 
good  as  the  man  who  is  known  by  six  hundred ;  but, 
other  things  being  equal,  is  not  the  man  who  helps 
six  hundred  men  out  of  difficulty  more  useful  than  he 
who  helps  o\\\j  six  men  ?  On  what  other  ground  does 
the  same  journal  from  which  I  have  quoted  say  else- 
where, "Who  believes  the  usefulness  of  a  laborer 
who  raises  a  hundred  bushels  of  corn  a  year  to  be  as 
great  as  that  of  a  village  pastor,  who,  by  his  teachings, 
and  the  daily  beauty  of  his  example,  '  allures  to  brighter 
worlds,  and  leads  the  way'  ?"  The  laborer  may  be 
just  as  sweet-tempered,  just  as  self-denying,  just  as 
devout  and  benevolent  and  blameless,  as  the  village 
pastor.  That,  no  religious  newspaper  or  religious 
teacher  will  deny.  As  to  the  quality  of  his  work,  the 
production  of  food  is  universally  admitted  to  be  the 
one  occupation  that  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  life. 
Nothing  can  be  more  important  than  this,  because, 
without  this,  no  other  occupation  could  exist.  The 
superiority  of  the  pastor,  therefore,  consists  in  certain 
qualities,  in  certain  powers,  which  have  been  cultivated 


196  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

in  him  at  great  cost,  which  command  mone}T,  and 
which  enable  him  to  touch  life  at  many  more  points 
than  the  laborer  is  able  to  do.  The  church  which  calls 
him  awa}r  doubles  his  salar}',  and  promises  him  a 
"larger  field,"  —  promises,  that  is,  more  listeners, 
more  men  and  women  to  learn  of  him,  to  criticise  his 
statements,  to  stimulate  his  intellect,  to  disseminate 
his  views.  All  these  are  advantages  ;  but  the  increased 
salaiy  is  also  an  advantage.  The  larger  the  salary, 
the  larger  ma}^  be  the  life.  An  ample  income  is  no 
more  to  be  despised  than  good  ej'esight  or  great 
strength.  If  a  man  has  qualities  that  command 
money,  he  has  the  same  right  to  use  them  that  he  has 
to  walk,  or  ride  or  row,  for  his  health.  A  man  is  just 
as  mighty  to  the  upbuilding  of  Zion  with  five  thousand 
dollars  a  year  as  with  five  hundred.  He  is  no  more 
mercenaiy  in  receiving  ten  thousand  than  he  is  in 
receiving  one  thousand.  He  may  benefit  his  kind  just 
as  much  on  a  salaiy  of  twenty  thousand  as  on  eight 
hundred  and  hints. 

The  minister  is  on  the  same  ground  as  other  men. 
Only  let  him  occupy  that  ground  manfully.  He  should 
discard,  once  for  all,  the  notion  that  he  is  a  peculiar 
people.  The  nineteenth  century  knows  neither  priest 
nor  Levite,  but  holds  eveiy  laborer  worthy  of  his  hire. 
A  minister  has  only  to  be  simple  and  natural,  to  pro- 
pose or  assent  to  terms,  to  enforce  promptness,  and 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  197 

pa}T  his  debts  like  other  men  ;  and  ninety-nine  out  of 
everj^  hundred  will  uphold  him.  But  what  we  cannot 
uphold  is  the  grotesque  commingling  of  sacred  and 
profane  things.  What  we  cannot  endure  is  the  sub- 
stitution of  a  man  for  the  Lord  Christ.  What  we  will 
not  away  with  is  the  idea  that  the  gift  of  God  may 
be  purchased  with  money,  if  a  clergyman  act  as 
auctioneer.  Yet  to  such  straits  as  these  are  ministers 
reduced.  They  profess  to  be  ambassadors  of  God, 
successors  of  Christ  and  the  apostles.  They  are  not 
money-makers.  They  cannot  buy  and  sell,  and  get 
gain,  as  other  men  do,  because  their  calling  is  holy. 
And  under  this  sacred  banner  they  will  do  and  say 
things  which  violate  the  decorum  of  the  world,  shock 
the  sensibilities  of  sinners,  and  bring  a  blush  of  shame 
to  the  cheeks  of  many  a  man  who  has  been  stolidly 
bivying  and  selling  all  his  lifetime. 

Do  ministers  like  the  role  that  has  been  assigned 
them,  — not  quite  a  woman,  yet  but  half  a  man?  Do 
they  like  the  semi-charity  which  has  tampered  with 
their  business-relations  ?  Do  they  like  to  have  their 
homes  invaded,  their  carpets  chosen,- their  coats  cut, 
let  alone  bead  watch-pockets  and  winter  provisions? 
It  is  a  matter  that  lies  entirely  in  their  own  hands.  It 
is  man's  own  free  will,  and  not  divine  sovereignty,  that 
inundates  his  house  with  bead  watch-pockets.  Parishes 
will  never  give  their  pastors  donation-parties,  if  pas- 
17* 


198  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

tors  decline  to  accept  them.  For  the  sake  of  the  good 
ones,  the}r  are  willing  to  put  up  with  the  poor  ones.  It 
is  the  hope  of  a  fruitful  harvest  that  lures  them  into 
the  disappointment  of  empty  wains.  If  they  would 
stand  on  the  same  footing  as  the  lawyer  and  the  farmer 
and  the  merchant,  they  would  have  no  disappointment 
to  bear.  The  people  who  flock  to  their  minister's 
house,  and  give  him  useless  trinkets  in  return  for  his 
bread  and  meat  are  precisely  on  a  level  with  their 
minister.  It  is  no  more  mean  to  go  to  a  man's  house 
for  what  you  can  get  than  for  him  to  receive  you  for 
what  you  will  give.  It  is  barter  on  both  sides.  It  is 
a  travesty,  and  a  profanation  of  hospitalit}T ;  and 
whichever  side  is  worsted  in  the  scramble  deserves  no 
S}rmpath3r. 

Donations  —  the  ecclesiastical  term  for  gifts  —  are 
defended  on  the  ground,  that,  without  them,  the  minis- 
ter has  not  a  sufficient  salary.  His  people  will  pay 
twelve  hundred  dollars.  They  will  not  pay  fifteen ; 
but  they  will  give  the  minister  presents  "  amounting  in 
value  to  three  hundred  dollars,"  so  that  he  will  receive 
and  report  a  salaiy  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  But  this 
three  hundred  dollars  has  to  do  double  duty,  —  as  gift 
and  salaiy.  The  people  have  the  genial  glow  which 
arises  from  a  generous  act,  and  the  calm  content  which 
springs  from  justice  done.  "What  do  }tou  pay  your 
minister?"    asks   the  foreigner.      "Twelve  hundred 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  199 

dollars  is  the  nominal  salary  ;  but  really  it  amounts  to 
fifteen "  is  the  satisfied  reply.  But  let  the  minister 
leave  for  another  ' '  field  of  labor  ; "  and  the  aggrieved 
comment  is,  "Should  you  think  he  could,  when  we 
had  just  made  him  that  handsome  present?  " 

If  a  people  can  give  their  minister  fifteen  hundred 
dollars,  the}'  can  pay  him  fifteen  hundred.  If  he  has 
earned  it,  it  should  be  paid  as  wages,  not  doled  out  as 
charity,  or  bestowed  as  affection.  It  is  for  the  minister 
himself  to  decide  how  large  a  salaiy  he  will  claim,  or 
with  how  small  a  one  he  will  be  content.  If  he  agree 
upon  five  hundred,  let  him  take  his  five  hundred,  and 
say  no  more  about  it.  If  he  find  himself  mistaken,  he 
can  ask  a  higher ;  and,  if  it  be  not  granted,  he  can 
withdraw.  But  he  can  make  it  known  from  the  begin- 
ning that  his  salary  is  salarj*,  and  not  sentiment. 
Nothing  is  easier  than  for  him  to  nip  in  the  bud  dona- 
tion-parties and  subscription-presents,  and  all  such 
makeshifts,  by  a  simple  announcement.  A  bargain 
between  clergyman  and  parish  is  as  practicable  as  any 
bargain  and  sale ;  and  the  dignity  of  his  office  is  no 
way  infringed  upon  by  proceeding  on  the  principles  of 
ordinary  bargain.  It  is  sadly  infringed  upon  by  the 
course  which  at  present  obtains.  In  what  attitude 
appears  the  clergyman  who  complains  that  his  flock 
overwhelm  him  with  bead  watch-pockets,  and  eat  up 
his  winter  provisions?     What  becomes  of  his  sacred 


200  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

office,  while  lie  is  ridiculing  the  small-type  Testaments 
which  his  donation-party  has  left  in  his  parlors  ?  Apart 
from  the  vexation  and  uncertainty  which  he  brings 
upon  himself,  the  minister  injures  his  people  by  per- 
mitting them  to  flatter  themselves  that  the}'  are  gener- 
ous, when  they  are  not  even  just.  If  they  pay  him  a 
sufficient  salary,  he  has  no  reason  to  complain  of 
meagre  gifts.  If  they  do  not  pay  him  sufficient,  he 
wrongs  them  by  letting  them  feel  as  if  they  did.  He 
should  train  them  to  discrimination.  He  should  make 
a  contract,  and  keep  it,  like  any  other  man.  He 
ought  not  to  complain  that  his  salary  is  small,  or  that 
it  is  not  promptly  paid.  He  should  stipulate  for  a 
larger  salary,  and  enforce  its  prompt  payment,  and 
thus  keep  his  business  out  of  the  pulpit.  If  his  parish 
decline,  the  world  is  all  before  him  where  to  choose. 
If  he  have  no  choice  of  places,  he  cannot  dictate 
terms.  He  must  view  himself  as  a  commodity  which 
has  small  market-value,  and  must  go  for  what  it  will 
fetch.  Ministers  with  four  or  five  thousand  dollars' 
salary  will  stand  in  their  pulpits,  and  complain,  that,  if 
they  die,  their  children  must  go  to  the  work-house,  as 
if  that  were  a  fact  in  which  the  parish  is  concerned. 
The  only  question  is :  Did  the  minister  agree  to  five 
thousand  dollars  ?  and  does  the  parish  pay  it  ?  If  so, 
their  responsibility  is  over,  and  the  place  of  his  chil- 
dren's death  is  impertinent.     If  he  cannot  live  on  five 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  201 

thousand  dollars,  what  doth  hinder  him  from  going 
where  he  can  get  ten  thousand?  It  would  be  just  as 
apostolic  for  him  to  do  that  as  to  stay,  and  grumble. 

Anecdotes  are  in  circulation  "  illustrative  of  the 
close-fisted  meanness  of  certain  rural  congregations 
in  dealing  with  their  ministers. "  If  lions  wrote  his- 
tory, it  would  be  found  that  there  is  a  "  congregation 
side,"  as  well  as  a   clerical   side,  to   the   close-fisted 

meanness  of  the  rural  districts.      To  Parson  B , 

the  story  says,  the  parish  agreed  to  pay  four  hundred 
dollars  ;  yet  the}7  fell  short  seventy-five  dollars,  and, 
when  reminded  of  the  deficiency,  suggested  that  "  min- 
isters should  not  be  greedy  of  filthy  lucre."  After 
continually  falling  short,  and  excusing  themselves,  and 
leading  their  pastor  a  life  of  anxietj*,  till  he  grew  old, 
infirm,  and  unable  to  do  clerical  duty,  the}7  at  length 
took  him  to  the  alms-house,  where  he  yielded  up  his 
life. 

This  is  a  very  mean  way  to  treat  a  minister,  but 
not  half  so  mean  as  the  minister  who  would  permit 
himself  to  be  thus  treated.  A  man  who  cannot  make 
any  more  headway  than  that  against  greed  and  avarice 
is  dear  at  any  price.  A  minister  who  preaches  all  his 
lifetime  to  a  people,  and  cannot  bring,  them  up  to  the 
point  of  common  honesty,  has  certainly  mistaken  his 
calling,  and  should  be  thankful  that  he  is  permitted  to 
die  peaceably  in  the   alms-house.     A  man  who  will 


202         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

permit  his  congregation  to  cheat  him  year  after  }rear, 
who  has  not  power  enough  to  convince  them  of  sin, 
nor  nerve  enough  to  leave  them,  ma}T  be  a  sincere 
Christian,  and  receive  his  reward  at  the  judgment- 
seat  ;  but  he  certainly  has  not  earned  his  salary  in  this 
world.  He  has  helped  to  demoralize  his  people, 
instead  of  uplifting  them.  He  has  made  the  gospel  a 
"  savor  of  death  unto  death. " 

It  may  seem  cold-blooded  and  mercenary  to  discuss 
such  matters  on  such  grounds ;  but  nothing  can  be 
more  mercenary  and  cold-blooded  than  for  a  minister 
to  sneer  at  the  gifts  which  his  people  bring  him,  and 
the  greed  with  which  they  eat  up  his  winter  provisions. 
We  have  well-nigh  lost  the  divinity  which  should 
hedge  a  gift ;  and  no  class  of  persons  have  contributed 
more  to  this  result  than  clergymen.  The  ideal  gift  is 
spontaneous,  is  useless,  is  private  and  sacred.  It  is 
the  blossoming  of  assured  love,  or  the  timid  outreach- 
ing  of  a  love  that  craves  assurance.  We  give  dia- 
monds the  most  enduring,  flowers  the  most  fragile  ;  and 
love  knows  no  distinction.  In  love,  it  is  the  giver  who 
is  uncertain,  who  is  obliged :  it  is  the  receiver  who 
confers  obligation,  and  approves  affection.  It  is  only  a 
long  course  of  the  most  complete  harmon}-,  of  the 
most  profound  and  unwavering  confidence,  that  justifies 
a  man  in  being  careless  about  gifts,  and  bestowing,  in 
the  matchless  freedom  of  inviolable  friendship,  what  is 
the  ordained  prerogative  of  charity. 


RELIGIOUS  BEGGARY.  203 

In  the  hands  of  clergymen,  the  gift  has  fallen  from 
its  high  estate.  They  have  solicited  it ;  they  have  pro- 
claimed it ;  they  have  computed  and  bruited  its  money- 
value,  and  mocked  at  its  insignificance.  They  have 
debased  it  into  the  payment  of  a  debt,  confounded  it 
with  the  discharge  of  a  duty,  profaned  it  by  associa- 
tion with  a  grudge.  They  owe  it  to  the  congregations 
they  have  tampered  with  to  sit  for  a  generation  in 
sackcloth  and  ashes,  —  sackcloth  of  their  own  buying, 
and  ashes  of  their  own  burning,  — and,  with  tight  fists 
of  integrity,  to  reject  and  repel  the  false  gifts  of  tight- 
fisted  meanness,  of  uncomprehending  carelessness, 
while  with  uplifted  voice  they  teach  their  people  the 
eternal  distinction  between  a  tax  wrung,  a  subscrip- 
tion badgered,  a  compromise  effected,  and  the  spon- 
taneous offering  of  brooding  and  delighted  love. 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM. 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM. 

ITANDING  amid  the  ruin  of  a  great  disaster, 
je£^y  and  seeing  on  all  sides  the  ungainly  relics  of 
stately  edifices,  while  one  building,  apparent- 
ly no  better  and  no  less  endangered,  remains  unharmed, 
almost  untouched,  one  instinctively  inquires,  "How 
could  it  be  that  this  did  not  burn  with  the  rest?" 
Says  a  pretty  pietist  in  reply,  "  A  kind  Providence 
protected  us.  God  did  not  mean  that  this  store  should 
burn.     That  is  the  way  I  account  for  it." 

A  little  farther  up,  out  of  the  desolation,  but  close 
upon  its  brink,  rises  some  such  institution  as  an  Emi- 
grants' Aid  Savings-Bank,  with  a  placard  arched  over 
the  sign,  to  the  effect  that  "God  has  protected  the 
savings  of  the  poor ; ' '  from  which  we  are  to  infer,  I 
suppose,  that  the  Emigrants'  Aid  Savings-Bank  has 
not  gone  out  in  the  flame. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  attempt  to  dissociate  man  from 
his  Maker  in  ever  so  small  a  measure.  Nothing  is  more 
wholesome,  more  heartening,  than  the  ever-present 
consciousness  of  an  ever-present  God,  interested  in  his 

207 


208  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

children,  co-working  for  their  good,  watching  over 
thern  with  unceasing  love  and  care  and  wisdom.  But 
let  us  not,  on  that  account,  discontinue  the  use  of  our 
reasoning  faculties.  When  a  young  girl,  untaught 
either  by  books  or  by  life,  inexperienced,  and  without 
responsibility,  utters  a  saintly  sounding  but  senseless 
sentiment,  we  accept  the  saintliness  as  an  omen  of 
good,  and  hope  the  sense  will  come  with  years  and 
exigencies  ;  but  when  mature  business-men  —  men  who 
hold  other  people's  property  in  trust,  bank  directors 
and  proprietors  —  publicly  placard  the  divine  favor  as 
a  reason  of  their  exemption  from  disaster,  it  is  time  for 
stockholders  to  look  into  the  books. 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  perform ; " 

but  he  is  in  no  proper  sense  a  bank  director,  nor  a 
fire-insurance  company  ;  and  it  would  seem  as  if  even 
his  divine  patience  would  be  taxed  with  our  petty 
attempts  to  glorify  him  by  attributing  to  him  their 
functions.  For  look  you,  fair  philosopher:  a  kind 
Providence  protected  you,  you  say  ;  and  your  shop  was 
not  burnt.  Was  it  an  unkind  Providence,  then,  that 
refused  to  protect  the  shop  across  the  street  ?  or  did  not 
Providence  care,  one  way  or  another,  and  just  let  it 
burn  ?  Does  God  love  Hovey ,  and  hate  Holbrook  ?  Is 
he    kindly  disposed    toward    Bigelow    Brothers,   but 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  209 

hostile  to  Palmer  and  Bachelder?  When  Shreve, 
Crump,  and  Low  succeeded  in  removing  their  goods  to 
a  place  of  safety,  did  they  elude  an  angry  God  who 
had  planned  to  burn  them  ?  Do  you  really  think  that 
God  cares  more  for  Jordan  and  Marsh  than  he  does 
for  Stevenson  ?  Are  Boston  and  Portland  and  Chicago 
any  less  dear  to  him  than  New  York  and  Baltimore 
and  Cincinnati?  If  God  saved  one  house,  did  he  set 
fire  to  the  others? 

Hard-headed  mone}r-man,  when  you  say  that  God 
protects  the  savings  of  the  poor,  what  do  you  mean? 
Did  he  protect  the  poor  people  of  Peshtigo,  who 
rushed  from  their  burning  houses  to  swift  death  by 
flood  and  flame  ?  Did  he  preserve  the  savings  of  the 
poor  in  Chicago  ?  Does  he  have  more  regard  for  the 
five  cents  which  the  sewing-girl  puts  in  the  bank  than 
for  the  sewing-machine  by  which  she  earns  it? 

And  why  should  God  care  for  the  savings  of  the 
poor  anjr  more  than  for  the  savings  of  the  rich  ?  He 
(according  to  this  philosophy)  desolated  whole  tracts 
belonging  to  the  rich.  He  swept  away  in  a  night  the 
savings  of  3Tears.  Men  who  had  grown  rich  from 
poverty  grew  suddenly  poor  from  wealth.  Was  it  the 
hatred  of  Deity  ?  Man}^  of  them  were  men  who  feared 
God,  and  honored  him  with  their  substance.  The 
churches  of  Boston  did  not  minish  aught  of  their 
Thanksgiving  contribution  to   the  poor,  though  they 


210  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

had  been  fearfully  marred  b}'  the  fire.  Does  that 
indicate  a  quality  that  would  be  likely  to  incur  the 
divine  displeasure?  The  burned-out  merchants  of 
Boston  are,  so  far  as  human  e3'es  can  judge,  as  worthy 
a  class  of  people  as  the  emigrants  who  come  to  us 
from  abroad.  They  are  as  honest,  as  upright,  as 
humane,  I  think  I  may  say  as  devout.  Compared 
with  emigrants,  one  would  say  that  God  could  have 
nothing  against  them  but  their  wealth  ;  but,  if  he  dis- 
approves of  wealth,  it  must  be  that  he  disapproves  of 
the  qualities  that  produce  wealth.  These  are  more 
likely  to  be  sagacity,  industry,  prudence,  integrity, 
than  greed  and  dishonest}'.  The}T  are  far  more  likely 
to  be  those  traits  which  in  combination  we  call  virtue, 
than  those  which  we  call  vice.  But  when  a  man, 
using  the  talents  of  which  he  finds  himself  possessed, 
and  the  opportunities  which  are  presented  to  him, 
becomes  a  rich  man,  a  supporter  of  the  churches,  a 
patron  of  the  arts,  a  promoter  of  education,  does  he 
pass  thereby  under  the  ban  of  Deity? 

Our  piet}r  needs  a  stiff  breeze  of  common  sense 
blowing  through  it.  We  need  to  remember  that  God 
is  no  partial  parent,  caressing  one  child,  and  chiding 
another,  but  impartial,  loving  all,  through  evil  report 
and  through  good  report.  The  saved  and  the  lost, 
the  murderer  and  his  victim,  are  alike  children  of 
one  Father.      The  little  barefoot  boy  is   as   dear  to 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  211 

his  Maker  as  the  dainty  lacly  in  her  silken  attire ; 
and  the  silken  lady  is  as  beloved  of  God  as  the 
barefoot  bo}\  God  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every 
day  ;  but  below  the  anger  dwell  love  and  untiring  com- 
passion, working  always  for  repentance  and  reformation 
in  the  guilty  but  beloved  child. 

God  no  more  saves  a  shop  or  a  bank  than  he  builds 
them.  He  does  both,  for  he  is  the  source  of  all 
things  ;  but  he  builds  houses  by  the  architect,  and  he 
saves  them  by  the  fireman.  It  has  pleased  him  to 
enact  that  a  nail  shall  go  where  it  is  driven ;  that 
mortar  shall  harden  in  air,  and  clay  by  fire.  "We  dis- 
cover these  laws,  and  build  houses,  and  live  in  them 
with  great  delight ;  but  we  do  not  say  that  God  built 
them.  He  has  enacted  that  wood  shall  consume,  and 
granite  crumble,  and  water  turn  to  vapor,  and  air  to 
wind,  by  the  action  of  fire  ;  and  our  houses  burn, 

"  Our  spirits  consume, 
Our  flesh  is  a  flame : " 

but  to  say  that  God  did  it  in  any  other  sense  than  he 
does  every  thing  is  to  outrage  reason,  and  exasperate 
justice.  It  is  good  to  be  religious  ;  but  it  is  not  good 
to  make  God  capricious.  A  great  conflagration  is 
kindled  and  fanned  by  natural  causes.  Its  lesson  is 
one  of  logic.  We  should  aim  to  discover  what  pro- 
duced it,  what  increased  it,  what  the  duties  it  devolves 


212  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

upon  us  in  attempting  to  prevent  its  recurrence,  and  to 
mitigate  its  consequences ;  but  to  overleap  all  these 
possible  and  comprehensible  steps,  and  mount  up  into 
heaven,  and  define  what  part  the  Deity  took  in  it,  is  a 
work  of  supererogation,  of  utter  inconsequence  and 
fatuit3T.  The  only  legitimate  way  of  finding  out  God 
is  through  his  word  and  work,  not  through  conjecture. 
The  lazy  fatalism  of  the  Mohammedan  is  in  no  way 
allied  to  the  intelligent  trust  of  the  Christian.  God  is 
as  much  dishonored  by  our  attempts  to  fasten  upon 
him  our  puerile  ways  of  thinking,  our  feeble  modes  of 
acting,  as  by  denying  his  existence  altogether.  An 
inscrutable  God  may  still  be  God ;  but  an  inconse- 
quent, capricious,  unreasonable  God  is  — Atheism. 
The  divine  name  is  not  a  talisman  for  security,  a 
charm  against  evil :  it  is  the  sign  of  one  existence, 
the  great  I  Am  of  the  universe.  What  we  can  com- 
prehend, that  we  know.  Beyond  this,  let  us  not 
wildly  and  profanely  assume,  but  wait  in  reverent 
silence. 

And  let  us  sometimes  worship  in  reverent  silence. 
A  devout  writer  wishes  to  ' '  combat  the  idea  that  God 
can  be  worshipped  at  Boston  and  Chicago,  but  must 
be  ignored  during  the  thirty-six  hours  of  travelling 
between  Boston  and  Chicago."  His  idea  of  worship 
is  the  Jewish  and  Samaritan,  not  to  say  Gentile  idea, 
that  there   is  no  worship  but  the  external  ceremony 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  213 

performed  in  this  mountain,  or  in  Jerusalem,  or  in 
Delphos.  He,  apparently,  never  heard  that  the  hour 
cometh,  and  now  is,  when  neither  in  this  mountain, 
nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  but  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  any- 
where,  shall  true  worshippers  worship  the  Father. 

"  A  company  of  Christian  workers,"  he  says, 
"  journe3Ted  to  Chicago,  and  beyond.  Christ  was  with 
them  at  all  times  while  journeying."  He  speaks,  it 
will  be  observed,  as  coolly  and  confidently  as  if  Christ 
were  a  Pullman  porter,  ticketed  through  without 
change  of  cars.  A  good  many  of  us  believe  in 
Christ's  help  and  comfort,  know  that  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  the  full  assurance  of  hope  and  of  faith, 
and  feel,  sometimes,  what  seems  to  be  a  real  and 
elevating  communion  with  the  divine  Being  ;  but  know- 
ing, also,  the  vanity,  the  impatience,  the  indolence, 
and  selfishness  which  so  easily  beset  us,  we  should 
shrink  from  asserting,  and  almost  from  believing, 
that  Christ  was  with  us  in  airy  other  sense  than 
that  in  which  he  is  alwa}xs  with  his  children,  —  the 
poorest,  weakest,  most  wayward,  as  well  as  the 
stanchest  and  wisest.  But  to  assume  Christ's  pecu- 
liar presence  with  a  whole  compan}^  for  a  whole  trip, 
at  one  clip,  seems  rather  more  like  assurance  pure 
and  simple  than  like  the  assurance  of  hope  or  faith, 
or  any  other  Christian  grace.  But,  "  moreover,  he 
was  seen  by  others  as  with  them ;  "  and  this  is  the 


214         SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

keynote  of  the  whole  performance.  This  Christian 
traveller  has,  or  at  least  expresses,  no  other  idea  of 
Christian  travelling  than  to  be  seen  of  men.  He  wants 
the  Bible  to  be  as  freely  used,  and  as  fearlessly  pe- 
rused, as  a  travelling  hatter  takes  out  his  pass-book 
for  an  order.  He  has  no  other,  at  least  he  presents  no 
other,  conception  of  Christian  travelling  than  saying 
3*our  pra3'ers,  and  studying  your  Sunda3'-school  lessons, 
on  the  train.  When  the  twilight  of  the  first  evening 
came,  one  of  them  (I  venture  to  say  it  was  the  very 
man  himself)  remarked  to  his  fellow-travellers,  — 
not  simply  of  their  own  party,  but  of  the  whole  car,  — 
that,  "  as  this  was  their  usual  hour  of  worship  at  their 
f amity  altars,  they  knew  of  nothing  that  should  pre- 
vent them  here,"  and  according^  fell  to.  It  seems 
not  to  have  occurred  to  them  that  the  peculiarit}*  of 
family  pi^er  is  its  being  offered  in  the  sacred  privacy 
of  the  family,  and  that  what  is  sweet  and  tender  and 
devout  by  the  fireside  may  become  ostentatious,  con- 
ceited, and  displeasing  in  the  noisy  publicity  of  a  pro- 
miscuous, rattling  railroad-car.  The  next  thing  they 
wanted  was  a  state-room  in  the  Pullman  car  to  study 
their  next  Sunday's  lesson  in  Mark.  Why  they  should 
have  wanted  a  state-room,  it  is  difficult  to  surmise,  as 
the  Christian  traveller  takes  special  pains  to  inform 
us,  that  during  all  the  singing,  praying,  and  studying, 
"  the  door  was  left  wide  open."     To  be  sure,  Christ 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  215 

implies  and  assumes,  that,  when  we  enter  into  our 
closet,  we  shall  shut  the  door ;  but  these  Christian 
travellers  could  not  afford  to  have  so  much  piety  shut 
up  in  a  state-room.  They  were  altogether  too  economi- 
cal to  waste  thus  the  odor  of  sanctity ;  and  the}7  left 
the  door  ajar,  that  it  might  be  wafted  through  the 
whole  car.  It  is  true  that  Christ  says,  "  When  thou 
pra}~est  thou  shalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites  are ;  for 
they  love  to  pray  standing  in  the  s3*nagogues,  and  in 
the  corners  of  the  streets,"  and  in  the  Pullman  cars, 
"that  they  may  be  seen  of  men."  But  we  have  changed 
all  that.  Christ  was  not  a  Christian  traveller.  To  be 
seen  of  men  is  the  very  essence  of  Christian  travel- 
ling. Its  only  trait  in  distinction  from  profane 
travelling  is  being  seen  of  men.  Not  a  word  is 
said  about  behavior,  —  honesty,  kindness,  politeness, 
promptness,  neatness,  unselfishness,  good-nature  ;  noth- 
ing at  all  of  any  thing  but  public  appearance. 

The  disgust  and  derision  excited  by  his  ill-breeding 
and  self-conceit  are  recorded  by  this  naive  Christian 
traveller,  without  the  smallest  suspicion  of  their  nature. 
He  probably,  to  this  day,  never  dreams  that  he  played 
any  thing  but  the  man.  One  good  old  gentleman, 
indeed,  afterward  placed  in  the  hands  of  some  member 
of  the  party  at  Niagara  a  paper  recording  his  love  for 
God.  But  what  of  the  official  in  charge,  who,  in  spite 
of   their    family   altars,   replied   afterwards   to    their 


216  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

request  for  a  state-room,  with  a  knowing  wink,  and  the 
remark  that  the}'  "could  have  a  nice  time  playing 
euchre  ' '  ?  The  wink  and  the  wit  were  lost  on  the  im- 
pervious Pharisee  who  evoked  them  ;  and  he  "frankly 
informed"  the  ungodly  official,  "that  the  next  sab- 
bath's lesson  in  Mark  was  to  be  studied,  as  there  would 
be  no  other  opportunhry."  Equally  wasted  upon  the 
Christian  traveller  was  the  sarcasm  of  the  Episcopal 
clergyman,  that  "  he  took  them  for  actors,  performing 
their  parts."  Hands  off,  Episcopac}- !  You  have  got 
your  chasubles  and  your  maniples,  and  I  know  not 
what  of  incomprehensibilities ;  but  you  are  not  to 
monopolize  the  theatricals  of  the  church.  We  also, 
we  Congregationalists,  have  our  cap  and  bells ;  and 
if  airy  choirs  of  yours  can  jangle  longer  and  louder 
than  these  Christian  travellers,  speak  now,  or  else 
hereafter  forever  hold  your  peace. 

"Now  this,"  says  my  martinet,  "I  call  common- 
sense  travelling."  I  thank  thee,  O  God,  that  I  am  not 
as  other  men  are,  —  devout  at  heart,  silent,  reverent 
toward  God,  respectful  to  man,  not  obtruding  my  per- 
sonal views  and  habits  on  strangers,  shutting  my  closet- 
door  to  pra}-  to  God  in  secret.  I  thank  thee,  O  God, 
that  I  do  not  count  religion  any  thing,  unless  it  be  seen 
of  men.  I  believe  nothing  of  right  living,  or  true 
thinking,  or  of  worshipping  thee  in  the  spirit,  but  only 
in  perpetual  talk,  — talk  to,  talk  at,  and  talk  about.     I 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  217 

thank  thee,  that,  rattle  the  railroads  never  so  noisily, 
I  can  rattle  louder  still.  Conductors  may  wink,  and 
clergyman  frown ;  but  my  pachyderm  is  impenetrable. 
I  am  that  kind  of  fool,  that,  though  thou  bray  me  in  a 
mortar  among  wheat,  with  a  pestle,  yet  will  not  my 
foolishness  depart  from  me  ! 

But  it  is  this  sort  of  thing  which  gives  us  faith  in 
Christianit}',  in  spite  of  right-hand  fallings-off  and 
left-hand  defections.  Only  a  divine  institution  could 
withstand  such  advocac}',  and  remain  respectable. 

There  are  a  good  many  persons  who  are  not  dead  in 
trespasses  and  silliness,  but  who  yet  are  influenced  by 
such  sentiments.  They  are  well  disposed,  busy  about 
other  matters,  and  rather  apt  to  adopt  views  without 
discrimination,  especially  if  they  have  a  religious  tinge. 
But  it  cannot  be  too  strongly  urged  that  such  teach- 
ings as  these,  so  far  as  they  have  any  influence  at  all, 
are  utterly  destructive  of  simplicity  of  character.  He 
who  talks  about  reading  the  Bible  freely  and  fearlessly 
in  the  railroad  train  has  fallen  from  grace.  He  is  not 
thinking  about  things,  but  appearances.  He  is  not 
thinking  about  divine  truths,  but  of  how  he  looks  read- 
ing them.  He  is  not  thinking  of  the  Bible,  but  of 
himself.  A  man  has  no  more  occasion  for  fearlessness 
in  reading  the  Bible  in  a  car  than  in  reading  a  news- 
paper or  a  novel ;  and,  if  he  thinks  he  has,  it  is  only 
because  he  is  swollen  with  conceit  and  self-importance. 

19 


218         SERMONS  TO   TEE   CLERGY. 

And,  if  he  is  a  Boston  Sunday-school  teacher,  the  best 
thing  he  can  do  on  his  way  to  Chicago  and  Oregon  is 
to  leave  his  "International  Sundaj'-school  Lessons" 
behind  him.  He  will  see  little  enough,  if  he  keeps  his 
e}^es  out  of  the  window  the  whole  time.  If  he  rides 
through  Michigan  studying  his  question-book,  he  might 
as  well  have  staid  at  home.  The  very  object  of  travel 
is  change.  The  Sunda}r-school  teacher  abroad  should 
put  his  Sunday  school  as  far  out  of  mind  as  possible, 
and  la}'  open  heart  and  soul  and  mind  to  all  new  and 
strange  scenes.  If  a  man  in  his  vacations  cannot  get 
on  without  the  machinery  of  religion,  that  machinery 
is  of  little  use  to  him,  is  likely  to  be  of  harm.  If  a 
man  cannot  feel  comfortable  at  twilight,  without  stand- 
ing up  in  a  Pullman  car,  and  praying  aloud  before  the 
passengers,  he  has  prayed  to  little  purpose  before  he 
stepped  into  the  car.  I  do  not  say,  that,  among  the 
group  which  assisted  at  this  spectacular  performance, 
there  were  not  sincere  and  trustworthy  Christians' ;  but 
I  do  say,  that  their  reporter  has  succeeded  in  setting 
them  in  a  singularly  ridiculous  and  offensive  light. 
And  I  venture  also  to  add,  that — outside  of  the  artificial 
atmosphere  of  technical  professional  religionists,  in  the 
real  instantaneous  and  solitary  application  of  principle 
to  action,  without  fuss  or  formalit}',  or  the  observation 
of  men  ;  in  the  strenuous  wear  and  tear  of  life,  —  the 
religion  that  is  silent  and  simple  and  modest,  cherished 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  219 

in  the  sacred  and  secret  depths  of  the  soul,  self-mis- 
trustful, and  not  overbold,  is  more  to  be  depended  on 
than  that  other  religion,  which,  however  sincere,  is  ever 
patent  and  blatant,  ready,  like  a  Jack-in-the-box,  to 
spring  up  into  your  face  at  the  slightest  touch,  and 
which,  fed  by  vanity  and  supported  by  admiration,  is 
likely  to  have  neither  courage  nor  discretion  left  for 
the  real  emergencies  of  life,  that  come  without  warning 
and  without  witness. 

Is  it  Christ,  or  Apollo,  that  said,  "  Not  every  one 
that  saith  unto  me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven  "? 

When  Chicago  was  cast  down  in  dust  and  ashes, 
the  whole  world  went  out  to  her  with  compassion  and 
succor.  There  was  no  solicitation.  All  hearts  swelled 
with  a  passion  of  sympathy,  whose  only  solace  was  a 
swift  and  eager  giving.  The  most  orthodox  of  our 
pulpits  found  itself  exclaiming,  ' '  Who  could  read  the 
telegrams  last  week,  without  a  choking  in  his  throat? 
Who  could  think  of  this  great  outpouring  of  compassion 
and  bounty,  without  feeling  that  love  is  mightier,  after 
all,  than  selfishness  ;  that  the  new  commandment  is, 
indeed,  the  highest  law?  " 

But  is  love  mightier  than  selfishness?  Then  must 
not  all  things  follow?  Love  is  the  law  of  heaven. 
Selfishness  is  the  law  of  hell.  If  heaven  is  the 
stronger,  surely  heaven  must  prevail. 


220  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

We  believe  in  original  sin  and  total  depravity,  after 
a  fashion.  Indeed,  in  the  midst  of  the  falsehood,  the 
slander,  the  malignity,  the  recklessness,  the  shame- 
lessness,  of  a  political  campaign,  we  believe  in  it  after 
a  very  sturdy  fashion.  Somewhere  in  the  human  heart 
there  seems  to  be  a  fountain  of  sin,  which  is  easily 
unsealed,  and  which  sends  forth  bitter  waters.  But 
what  if,  close  alongside,  lies  a  fountain,  as  accessible, 
of  original  purity,  of  total  goodness?  You  touch  the 
chord  of  selfishness,  and  man  grasps  and  jostles,  and 
turns  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left.  You 
smite  the  chords  of  love,  and  he  stops  in  his  gain- 
getting,  flings  all  his  eagerness  into  helpfulness,  and 
becomes  as  a  god.  Never  were  our  growing,  hot- 
headed cities  more  bent  on  making  mone}^  than  they 
were  on  giving  it  awa}T  when  trouble  came.  Never 
was  their  intelligence,  their  sagacit}r,  their  experience, 
their  activity,  more  swiftly  and  imperatively  summoned 
for  their  own  advantage  than  for  the  succor  of  a  suffer- 
ing neighbor  on  one  memorable  morning.  Which  is 
the  fact,  then,  on  which  to  base  our  creed?  Why 
predicate  total  depravity,  unless  we  predicate,  also, 
total  goodness  ?  Are  we  any  more  sure  that  men  will 
sin  than  we  are  that  men  will  save?  May  we  not 
count  as  confidently  on  human  generosity  as  on  human 
greed?  Does  human  nature  any  more  quickly  fall 
before   temptation   than  it  rises  before  opportunity? 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  221 

Has  it  not  an  aptness  for  good  as  strong  as  its  aptness 
for  evil? 

To  which  is  it,  in  the  long-run,  and  sometimes  in 
the  run  that  is  not  very  long,  safer  to  appeal?  —  the 
good,  or  to  the  evil  passions  ?  Who  is  the  more 
influential  leader  of  his  kind,  he  who  assumes  that 
men  are  corrupt,  immoral,  dishonest,  tricky,  or  he 
who  assumes  that  they  mean  to  be  honest,  just,  and 
candid?  Why  do  men,  in  speaking  to  their  fellows, 
always. try  to  maintain  the  appearance  of  right,  unless 
it  be  because  there  is  still  in  the  human  breast  an 
unspoiled  appreciation  and  approbation  of  the  right  ? 

Right  thinking  is  not,  indeed,  right  doing ;  but  it  is 
the  first  step  which  costs.  And  is  there  not,  on  the 
whole,  more  right  doing  than  wrong  doing?  Sin  in 
the  mass  is  odious ;  and  the  mass  is  immense.  It  is 
noisome  and  noisy :  it  is  against  wind  and  tide :  it 
makes  outcry,  and  attracts  attention.  Innocence  and 
virtue  and  holiness  are  quiet  and  natural.  Their  voice 
is  not  heard ;  but  they  are  pervasive,  and  one  might 
almost  say,  overpowering.  The  honest,  generous, 
worthy  people  in  almost  any  community  outnumber  the 
thieves,  the  misers,  the  worthless.  The  fathers  and 
mothers,  the  brothers  and  sisters,  do  many  more  good 
deeds  to  each  other  than  evil ;  say  many  more  kind 
words  than  harsh  ones.  But  the  ninety  and  nine 
respectable  and  exemplary  families  figure  far  less  before 

19* 


222  SERMONS   TO   TIIE   CLERGY. 

the  public  than  the  one  litigious  and  quarrelsome  family. 
The  one  hasty  word  of  the  good  husband  stays  longer 
in  memoiy  to  harass  and  annoy  than  the  twenty  kindly 
and  comfortable  words  to  soothe.  The  little  children 
pla}^  in  the  sunshine  for  hours,  and  nobody  minds  them  ; 
but  one  howl  of  displeasure  speedily  rivets  all  the 
attention  of  authority.  The  mass  of  vice  is  immense  ; 
but  the  mass  of  virtue  —  is  it  not,  also,  immense  and 
immeasurable?  Where,  then,  is  total  depravity?  and 
what  is  total  depravity? 

Shall  we  say  that  generosity  and  benevolence  and 
sympathy  are  but  natural  traits,  have  no  moral 
character,  are  destitute  of  holiness,  and  will  not  avail 
in  the  general  summing-up  ?  that  there  is  in  them  no 
more  saving  virtue  than  in  the  pla}Tfulness  of  the 
kitten,  or  the  timidity  of  the  lamb?  But  is  it  not  the 
best  thing  possible  to  be  said  of  Nature,  that  its 
unforced,  spontaneous  traits  are  noble?  It  is,  surely, 
far  better  to  be  kind  simply,  naturally,  unconsciously, 
than  to  be  forced  to  make  a  fresh  resolution  every  time 
there  is  an  opportunity  for  kindness.  To  be,  without 
thinking,  what,  with  your  hardest  thinking  and 
strongest  determination,  }tou  would  wish  to  be,  ought 
not  to  be  counted  a  disadvantage.  The  strongest  con- 
demnation we  can  pronounce  against  airy  sin  is,  that  it 
is  unnatural.  In  that  do  we  not  pronounce  a  eulogy 
on  Nature? 


HEAVENLY  HEATHENISM.  223 

And  if  kindness  and  benevolence  have  no  moral 
character,  are  simply  temperamental  and  insignificant, 
shall  not  unkinclness  and  malevolence  come  under  the 
same  head?  If  a  man's  good  deeds  to  his  neighbor 
shall  go  for  nothing  in  the  general  judgment,  because 
he  did  them,  not  from  love  to  God,  but  simply  out  of 
a  naturally  kind  disposition,  shall  not  his  evil  deeds 
be  equally  set  at  nought,  because  he  did  them  with  no 
hatred,  and  no  thought  of  God,  but  only  out  of  that 
temper  which  his  mother  gave  him  ? 

One  child  is  so  rooted  and  grounded  in  love  to  his 
father,  that  he  never  thinks  of  disobeying  him  ;  never 
thinks  of  the  household  rules  as  law,  more  than  of  the 
sun  rising.  Another  rebels  and  revolts  ;  and  it  is  only 
after  a  hard  struggle,  and  much  inward  discussion,  that 
he  conforms  to  the  household  authority.  Shall  his 
submission  be  counted  to  him  for  righteousness,  while 
the  other's  blameless  walk,  which  is  not  submission, 
but  harmony,  counts  for  nothing? 

Sin  is  a  terrible  blot  on  the  world's  page ;  but 
perhaps  it  is  a  blot,  and  not  the  page.  For  me,  I  am 
amazed  at  the  amount  of  quiet,  stolid,  unswerving 
goodness  that  does  not  know  itself  for  goodness,  but 
thinks  it  is  simply  supporting  the  family,  or  paying  the 
taxes,  or  training  the  children,  or  doing  the  fall  sewing, 
or  electing  the  candidate,  or  minding  its  own  business 
generally,  —  goodness  that  rates  itself  too  low  to  im- 


224  SERMONS   TO  TEE   CLERGY. 

agine  that  the  Deity  could  take  any  cognizance  of  it, 
but  which  I  imagine  to  be  an  offering  of  a  sweet  savor 
unto  the  Lord,  —  goodness  which  wears  noplrylacteries, 
and  flaunts  no  banners,  nor  ever  thinks  itself  meet 
to  enter  even  the  outer  court  of  the  sanctuary,  but 
before  which,  I  fancy,  the  inner  doors  will  one  day 
part,  on  golden  hinges  turning. 


PEAYEE. 


PRAYER. 

|HE  proposal  of  Prof.  Tyndall,  or  his  friend, 
to  subject  prayer  to  scientific  tests,  seems  to 
have  somewhat  shocked,  not  to  say  angered, 
the  religious  world.  Possibly,  that  is  what  the  gentle- 
men wanted.  Perhaps,  however,  they  were  sincere 
in  their  desire  to  ascertain  the  efficacy  of  prayer; 
or  perhaps  it  was  less  to  show  their  own  disbelief 
than  to  convince  the  world  of  its  unbelief.  It  is  surely 
unnecessary  to  assume  that  they  were  actuated  by  un- 
handsome motives.  Even  if  they  were,  would  it  not  be 
wiser,  and  worthier  the  truth,  to  ignore  that  fact,  and 
treat  them  as  if  they  were  simply  mistaken,  and 
sincerely  inquiring,  rather  than  attempt  to  cast  odium 
upon  them,  to  call  them  Sadducees,  and  their  proposal 
a  trap  ? 

Why  must  it  be  a  trap  ?  Why  is  not  the  test  they 
propound  just  as  fair  as  that  named  by  Elijah  to  the 
prophets  of  Baal,  to  which  we  never  raised  objection? 
James  said,  ' '  Is  any  sick  among  you  ?  Let  him  call 
for  the  elders  of  the  church ;   and  let  them  pray  over 

227 


228  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

him,  anointing  him  with  oil  in  the  name  of  the  Lord : 
and  the  pra}~er  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick,  and  the 
Lord  shall  raise  him  up."  If  we  believe  that  James 
meant  to  state  a  truth  of  literal  and  universal  appli- 
cation, why  are  the  philosophers  unreasonable?  If 
we  do  not  believe  it,  what  do  we  believe  ? 

To  sa}'  that  God  will  not  answer  a  prayer  that  is  a 
challenge,  or  pra}^er  that  proceeds  from  a  doubt  as  to 
the  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  that  Christ  always  refused 
to  give  a  sign,  is  hardty  fair  to  Prof.  Tyndall,  and  is 
not  beyond  question.  Christ  would  hardly  refuse  to 
give  a  sign  which  was  precisely  what  he  had  himself 
prescribed.  If  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick, 
how  is  one  to  know  that  it  is  irreverent  to  ask  all  the 
faithful  to  pray  for  the  sick?  Elijah's  proposal  was  a 
challenge  of  the  most  defiant  sort ;  and  the  priests  of 
Baal  showed,  at  least,  the  sincerity  of  their  belief,  by 
accepting  it.  We  may,  indeed,  say  that  the  challenge 
was  not  given  to  the  true  God,  but  to  the  false  god. 
But  we  cannot  place  the  divine  Being  in  the  attitude  of 
proposing  what  he  would  decline  to  accept.  He  surely 
showed  conclusively  that  he  was  not  offended  by  being 
subjected  to  a  material  test.  It  was  not,  indeed,  sci- 
entific ;  but  it  was  purely  popular.  Gideon,  in  great 
doubt  and  fear,  sought  an  arbitrary  sign  from  Heaven  ; 
and  it  was  granted  him  once  and  again.  Christ  did  re- 
fuse to  give  signs,  but  not  when  something  was  asked 


PRAYER.  229 

in  direct  conformity  with  his  directions.  Elijah  had 
great  faith  ;  but  Gideon,  apparently,  had  little.  If  it 
does  no  good  for  any  person  to  pray  who  does  not 
believe  in  pra}~er,  if  prayers  have  no  effect  except  when 
offered  by  persons  who  have  no  doubts  to  set  at  rest, 
alas !  would  not  the  lips  of  the  world  be  well-nigh 
sealed?  I  have  not  so  learned  Christ.  It  seems  to 
me  that  God  is  so  abundantly  and  immeasurably  kind, 
considerate,  and  helpful ;  he  is  so  eager  that  we 
should  confide  in  him,  and  love  him  ;  he  is  so  anxious 
to  put  us  into  communication  with  himself,  and  yet 
so  unable  to  do  it  without  our  concurrence, — that  he 
clutches  at  a  straw  as  it  were.  He  comes  out  to  meet 
us  while  we  are  yet  a  great  way  off.  He  catches  the 
first  glance  turned  toward  him,  even  though  it  be  of 
gloom  and  doubt.  He  accepts  even  an  unreasonable 
and  arbitrary  challenge.  He  is  glad  to  hear  us  say, 
"Lord,  I  believe:  Lord,  I  believe,"  even  though  we 
contradict  ourselves  in  the  next  breath,  and  cry  out, 
"  Help  thou  mine  unbelief."  He  will  hear  and  answer 
the  prayer  that  is  offered  with  halt  and  hesitancy  ; 
that  has  scarcely  a  stronger  hold  on  the  soul  than  has 
the  spider's  web  on  the  tree  from  which  it  trembles. 

Does  not  the  question,  after  all,  turn  on  the  nature 

of  pra}^er,  and,  by  implication,  on  the  proper  objects  of 

prayer?     The  Bible   certainly  seems    to    teach,   that 

prayer  for  direct,  personal,  material  objects,  will  be 

20 


230         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

literally  answered.  We  who  have  grown  abstract 
and  philosophical  are  inclined  to  reject  the  theory, 
and  say  that  the  only  prayers  to  which  we  ought  to 
expect  literal  answers  are  prayers  for  spiritual  gifts. 
We  may  pray  that  our  friends  recover  their  health, 
but  with  the  proviso,  if  it  be  God's  will.  So,  then,  if 
our  friends  die,  the  prayer  is  not  lost.  We  pray 
that  we  may  be  of  forgiving  temper.  That  needs  no 
proviso,  because  we  know  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  we 
should  be  forgiving.  Such  prayer,  then,  will  surely  be 
answered.  But,  says  the  scientist,  "if  the  disease  be 
an  incurable  one,  all  the  pra3^ers  of  all  the  world  will 
not  cure  it.  Filth  brings  fever.  Prayer  cannot  inter- 
pose." And  we  admit  the  force  of  the  statement. 
But  law  has  no  more  force  in  the  physical  than  in  the 
moral  world.  The  heart  is  just  as  truly,  if  not  just  as 
directly,  under  the  sway  of  logic,  it  is  just  as  subject  to 
cause  and  effect,  as  is  the  head.  God  cannot  make 
me  good  without  my  concurrence,  any  more  than  he 
can  make  me  healthy.  I  must  take  just  as  reasonable 
and  definite  measures  against  malice,  envy,  and  un- 
charitableness,  if  I  have  a  tendency  that  way,  as 
against  rheumatism  and  typhoid-fever.  A  forgiving 
temper  is  as  much  within  my  own  grasp  as  physical 
vigor,  and  as  unattainable  outside  of  certain  conditions. 
God  as  really  desires  I  should  be  well  as  he  desires  I 
should  be  good.     I  pray  him  to  enable  me  to  forgive 


PRAYER.  231 

m}T  foe  ;  and  I  at  once  turn  about,  and  speak  peaceably 
to  him,  and  help  him  bear  his  burdens.  I  pray  God 
to  conduct  me  safely  on  my  journey ;  and  I  take  care 
never  to  step  upon  the  train  when  it  is  in  motion. 
But  if  I  am  weak,  and  fall  into  revenge  ;  if  I  am  late, 
and  fear  to  miss  the  train,  and,  in  each  case,  come  to 
grief,  —  is  prayer  unanswered,  and  of  no  avail? 

Reason  does  not  forsake  the  spiritual  to  control  the 
material  world.  The  two  worlds  are  one,  —  subject  to 
the  same  law  of  cause  and  effect,  ruled  by  the  same 
sovereign.  The  Lord  our  God  is  one  Lord.  If  the 
little  geological  hammer  shivers  the  efficacy  of  prayer 
for  material  blessings,  it  annihilates  with  the  same 
blow  all  prayer  for  spiritual  blessing.  If  science  will 
not  permit  God  to  refresh  the  thirsty  earth  with  falling 
showers,  in  response  to  the  prayers  of  the  saints, 
neither  can  it  permit  him  to  refresh  their  thirsty  souls 
with  the  dews  of  divine  grace. 

I  do  not  believe  any  theory  of  prayer  can  be  framed 
which  will  satisfy  either  the  believer  or  the  unbeliever. 
There  is  a  whole  universe  to  rove  through,  and  we 
know  very  little  about  it  all.  It  is  not  only  that  the 
stars  in  their  courses  fight  slry  of  us  ;  but  we  are  living 
every  day  in  close  contact  with  forces,  of  whose  nature, 
origin,  and  ends,  we  are  almost  totally  ignorant.  It 
is  not  only  we,  the  people,  who  walk  "  in  a  vain  show ; " 
but  the  scientists  hold  their  knowledge  by  the  most 


232         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

insecure  tenure.  The  learning  of  one  generation  is 
the  rubbish  of  the  next.  "  God  cannot  contravene  hia 
own  laws,"  says  the  philosopher.  "  Wiry  pray  that  he 
should?"  But  tell  me,  O  my  philosopher,  what  are 
God's  laws  ?  Once  it  was  a  divine  law  that  heat  was 
caloric,  a  latent  substance  in  all  bodies :  now  it  is 
divine  law  that  heat  is  no  substance  at  all,  but  a  mode 
of  motion.  Once  the  law  bade  the  sun  go  around  the 
earth :  now  it  sends  the  earth  spinning  around  the 
sun.  Once  the  law  made  light  to  be  the  emanation 
of  matter  from  luminous  bodies ;  then  it  was  the 
undulation  of  ether,  pervading  all  bodies :  now  it 
looks  as  if  light  were  decreed  to  be  the  vibrations  of 
the  molecules  of  matter  itself.  Once  the  law  made 
sharp  and  essential  distinctions  between  mind  and 
matter :  now  the  correlation  of  forces  transmutes 
bread  and  butter  into  thought,  and  philosophy  is  but 
phosphorus  on  the  brain.  Surely  the  condemnation 
of  Christian  devotion  is  premature.  Further  investi- 
gation may  yet  discover  prayer,  too,  among  the 
secretions. 

Indeed,  the  philosopher's  refusal  to  recognize  prayer 
as  a  possible  force  seems  to  me  eminently  unphiloso- 
phical.  After  long  and  elaborate  treatises  to  prove 
that  muscular  power  is  correlated  with  nerve-power, 
and  nerve-power  with  will-power  ;  that  mental  opera- 
tions are  directly  correlated  with  physical  activities  ,• 


PRAYER.  233 

that  external  material  force  may  become  a  mode  of 
internal  consciousness  ;  that  emotion  may  be  converted 
into  movement,  —  they  turn  around,  and  affirm  that  one 
special  form  of  emotion  cannot  be  converted  into 
movement,  a  certain  mode  of  consciousness,  a  certain 
exertion  of  will-power,  one  especial  form  of  mental 
and  moral  operations,  can  have  no  influence  whatever 
upon  physical  activities.  Our  magi  are  ready  to  swear 
to  the  correlation  and  conservation  of  forces  ;  but  they 
must  select  the  forces. 

Learned  and  logical  Herr  Professor,  we  believe  in 
you  profound^.  Whether  you  go  down  into  the 
darkness  of  the  under-world,  or  up  into  the  very 
brightness  and  substance  of  the  sun,  we  follow  you 
with  unequal  steps,  but  with  reverent  eyes  and  de- 
lighted hearts.  Many  things  which  you  say  we  must 
take  on  trust ;  but  the  results  of  your  difficult  and 
occult  processes  we  receive  gladly.  But  if  you  put 
prayer  outside  the  pale  of  cosmical  forces,  if  3'ou  de- 
monstrate that  it  is  only  a  name,  and  nothing  more, 
we  may  not  refute  your  argument,  or  resist  your 
action ;  j7et,  all  the  same,  not  one  single  believing 
heart  is  shocked  one  hair's-breadth  out  of  its  position 
by  your  flawless  argument.  This  is  one  of  the  facts 
you  must  build  on,  and  it  is  as  indisputable  as  an 
alkali.  We  pray,  not  because  it  is  reasonable  or 
logical  to  pray,  but  because  we  cannot  help  it.  Does 
20* 


234         SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

Mr.  Galton  say  that  "  prayer  is  but  a  signal  of 
distress,  the  outcry  of  the  hare  in  mortal  terror  of  the 
hounds  "  ?  Why,  even  thus  he  concedes  every  thing. 
It  makes  prayer  organic,  natural,  real.  Admit  that 
prayer  is  what  it  seems  to  be  as  truly  as  is  the  cry 
of  the  hunted  hare,  and  we  need  ask  no  more. 

We  know  well  that  typhoid-fever  is  generated  by 
ignorance  and  negligence.  We  are  ready  to  believe 
that  the  germs  of  disease  have  a  fatal  affinit}T,  so  to 
speak,  with  certain  living  tissues  ;  but,  when  the  child 
of  the  house  is  prostrate  and  tossed  with  fever,  all  the 
treatises  in  the  world  would  not  keep  the  father  and 
mother  from  pushing  to  Heaven  constant  and  earnest 
implorings  for  his  recovery.  In  the  early  morning, 
as  you  stand  at  your  window,  looking  over  the  green 
world,  all  sparkling  and  dew}^,  all  alight  and  alive, 
your  soul  rises  to  God  in  praise  and  exultation,  — not 
by  a  mental  causation,  perhaps,  but  upborne  by  a  no 
less  powerful  moral  instinct,  which  is,  also,  not  without 
the  line  of  causation.  If  you  come  to  that,  you  may 
resolve  the  dew,  and  the  brightness,  and  the  fertility 
into  vapors  and  suction  and  absorption,  the  blind 
workings  of  Nature,  the  simple  procession  of  cause 
and  effect,  for  which  no  one  has  an}^  especial  call  to 
be  grateful.  But  we  are  grateful.  We  do  praise  the 
Lord  for  it.  All  nations,  in  all  ages,  have  ascribed 
glory  to  God.     Find  room  for  that  fact  in  your  sj-stem 


PRAYER.  235 

of  philosophy,  or  your  induction  must  be  incom- 
plete. 

We  are  ready  to  relinquish  our  philosophical  theories 
whenever  you  speak  the  word.  "We  are  not  indisso- 
luble wedded  to  the  sjdlogism.  We  shall  never  make 
any  fight  against  the  convertibility  of  forces,  or  the 
indestructibility  of  matter.  In  the  heavens  and  the 
earth,  and  the  waters  which  are  under  the  earth,  in 
the  solar  s}Tstem,  and  the  whole  boundless  universe, 
you  shall  have  every  thing  your  own  way ;  but  suffer 
the  little  children,  and  forbid  them  not,  to  say,  "  Our 
Father  which  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name." 

And  except  ye  become  as  little  children,  and  until 
ye  become  as  little  children,  and  in  as  far  as  ye  do 
not  become  as  little  children,  I  do  not  see  but  you 
will  have  to  wander  forever  in  the  outer  darkness  of 
your  molecules  and  your  imponderables,  your  dynamics 
and  yom  transmutations,  and  never  enter  into  the 
warm,  loving,  certain  kingdom  of  heaven. 

No  doubt,  at  heart,  the  philosophers  are  far  better 
Christians  than  they  make  themselves  out  to  be. 
The}r  have  a  profound  trust  in  protoxides,  and  a 
simple  faith  in  the  spectroscope,  which  promises  to 
keep  bright  their  power  of  faith  and  trust.  And  if 
they  do  seem  to  remit  the  Deity  to  the  further  end  of 
the  chain  of  causation,  and  allow  him  no  part  nor  lot 
in  the  affairs   of  to-day,   nevertheless,  he  is  not  far 


236         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

from  every  one  of  us,  and,  haply,  they  feel  after  him, 
and  find  him,  even  in  a  chemical  experiment  or  an 
astronomical  observation. 

Nor  are  we,  Christians  after  a  sort,  such  hypo- 
crites as  they  fear,  although  we  do  not  readily  accept 
their  suggestion  of  concerted  and  concentrated  prayer. 
The  reasons  that  we  give  for  our  refusal  may  not  be 
coherent  or  consistent ;  but  the  one  unanswerable 
reason  is,  that  we  do  not  like  the  idea.  It  is  repulsive. 
If  3tou  cannot  see  why ,  O  philosophers !  never  mind. 
The  fact  remains  ;  and  it  is  an  insurmountable  objec- 
tion, just  as  truly  as  if  it  bristled  with  premise  and 
conclusion. 

"  The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell; 
But  I  don't  like  you,  Dr.  Fell." 

And  Dr.  Fell  would  have  been  no  more  completely 
rejected  if  he  had  been  a  villain,  and  therefore  rejected. 
Somebody,  who  apparently  believes  that  the  Deity  is 
of  the  Chinese  persuasion,  and  will  hear  a  clash  of 
gongs,  when  he  would  be  deaf  to  a  "still,  small  voice," 
proposed,  that,  when  the  blare  of  trumpets  should  have 
died  out  of  the  Peace  Jubilee  House,  a  world's  pra}Ter- 
meeting  should  be  gathered  there  from  all  quarters  of 
the  globe.  The  suggestion  fell  flat  upon  the  public 
ear,  and  was  never  heard  of  more ;  but  it  was  not  in 
the  least  because  Christian  America  does  not  believe 


PRAYER.  237 

in  prayer.  We  are  bad  enough,  Heaven  knows  (and 
it  is  a  great  comfort  that  Heaven  does  know  it)  ; 
but,  amid  all  our  dissensions  and  distractions  and 
inconsistencies,  the  one  thing  on  which  we  are  most 
closely  united,  the  one  thing  in  which  we  believe  both 
instinctively  and  intellectually,  is  praj^er,  not  dis- 
tinctively in  social  prayer,  in  public  prayer,  in  formal 
prayer,  but  in  the  unforced,  spontaneous,  irresistible 
outflow  of  the  human  soul  to  a  personal,  sympathizing, 
all-comprehending  God,  in  whom  we  live  and  move, 
and  have  our  being. 

It  seems  to  me,  learned  and  beloved  Prof.  Tyndall, 
that  if  you  would  only  say  the  Lord's  Prayer  every 
night,  reverently  and  really,  as  such  a  man  as  you 
must  needs  say  it,  if  he  say  it  at  all,  the  problem  of 
prayer  would  soon  solve  itself.  And  it  is  worth 
while  to  observe,  that,  while  there  are  prayers  and 
prayers,  the  Lord's  Pra}Ter  seems  to  cover  the  ground. 
All  the  good  in  all  the  world  is  comprehended  in  those 
simple,  succinct  formulas.  They  are  relegated  largely 
to  children  and  Episcopalians  ;  but  adults  have  not 
outgrown  them,  nor  have  even  Congregationalists 
devised  any  thing  better.  I  cannot  think  of  a  blessing 
to  be  desired,  an  evil  to  be  averted,  which  is  not 
included  in  the  Lord's  Prayer ;  and  we  are  expressly 
warned  not  to  lay  stress  on  much  speaking.  Still,  if 
the  soul  wishes  to  go  outside  the  form  presented  by 


238  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

our  Saviour,  and  voice  its  wants  in  its  own  words,  I 
suppose  the  Lord  God  will  still  be  attent. 

Shall  I  give  a  little  narrative  that  proves  nothing, 
and  may  go  for  nothing,  but  is,  nevertheless,  not 
unconnected  with  our  theme  ? 

Said  my  friend,  a  simple,  unlearned  woman,  "  I 
wanted  a  servant.  My  house  was  in  order  ;  and  I  was 
read}7  to  set  up  housekeeping.  I  went  to  the  intelli- 
gence-offices. The  same  shabby  benches  of  shabby 
women,  rough,  untidy,  repulsive.  My  heart  sank 
within  me  at  the  thought  of  organizing  a  home  on  such 
a  basis.  It  occurred  to  me,  would  it  do  any  good  — 
in  fact,  would  it  be  right  —  to  pray  over  it?  If  good 
servants  are  not  to  be  had,  God  himself  cannot  bring 
me  one.  Moreover,  the  supply  is  extremely  limited, 
and  the  demand  very  great.  I  was  not  in  sore  need. 
There  were  a  great  many  other  women  to  whom  a 
competent  servant  meant  health,  peace  of  mind,  con- 
tent with  life  :  to  me,  it  meant  only  freedom  from 
annoyance  ;  and  I  was  so  rich  in  happiness,  in  comfort, 
in  occupation,  in  satisfying  friendships  and  natural 
life,  that  it  seemed  selfish  to  be  craving  the  good  serv- 
ant which  other  women  needed  so  much.  And  with 
it  all  was  a  doubt  whether  God  ever  intended  us  to 
throw  such  things  on  him.  Having  given  us  ability  to 
help  ourselves,  would  it  not  be  like  indolence  to  ask 
him  to  help  us?     And,  ignorant  as  we  are,  is  it  ever 


PRAYER.  239 

safe  to  set  our  hearts  upon  any  thing  in  particular  ? 
Still  I  wanted  the  right  one  so  much,  and  did  not  in 
the  least  know  how  to  get  at  her.  So,  all  quietly,  and 
with  never  a  thought  of  breathing  it  to  any  one,  I 
made  a  little  arrangement  with  the  good  God,  that  if 
it  could  be  done  without  depriving  any  one  else  of 
assistance,  and  if  it  were  not  a  thing  so  much  my 
own  business  that  I  had  no  right  to  trouble  him  about 
it,  and  if,  in  addition  to  all  the  rest  of  my  satisfactions, 
he  could  afford  to  let  me  have  the  satisfaction  of  a 
good  servant,  why  I  should  be  very  glad  and  grateful. 
But  I  stipulated  expressly  that  I  would  not  presume 
on  an  affirmative  answer,  and  that  a  negative  answer 
should  apply  only  to  this  particular  case.  If  nothing 
came  of  it,  I  would,  perhaps,  be  more  backward  about 
tr}*ing  again ;  but  I  would  not  promise  not  to  try 
again. 

"  On  my  way  to  the  intelligence-office,  it  came  into 
my  power  to  attempt  a  good  service  for  an  absent 
acquaintance.  It  would  cost  me  two  or  three  hours 
of  time,  a  good  deal  of  discomfort,  and  interruption  of 
m}^  present  pursuit ;  and  the  woman  in  question  had 
showed  herself  entirely  unappreciative,  not  to  say 
resentful,  of  previous  favors.  I  had  a  thousand  minds 
not  to  go ;  but  it  occurred  to  me,  that  here  was  I 
asking  a  doubtful  favor  for  myself.  I  was  not  sure  I 
was  on  legitimate  ground  there ;  but  I  was  quite  sure 


240  SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

in  doing  a  kind  act.  Was  it  rather  bribing  the  good 
God?  Perhaps  so.  But  I  knew  he  could  not  be 
bribed  :  so  there  was  no  harm  done.  My  errand  over, 
I  went  to  the  intelligence-office.  Immediately  a 
3'oung  woman  was  presented  to  me,  so  pretty,  modest, 
and  ladylike,  that  I  thought  she  could  not  be  a  servant ; 
but  she  was.  I  put  several  questions,  which  she 
answered  so  satisfactorily,  and  her  whole  appearance 
was  so  prepossessing,  that  I  was  taken  aback,  and 
actually  sat  and  stared  at  her.  I  don't  know  what  the 
poor  creature  thought  of  me  ;  but  I  was  thinking  over 
and  over  again,  c  I  wonder  if  God  did  send  }'ou.'  It 
seemed  just  like  the  Old  Testament.  And  yet  it 
seemed,  also,  somehow,  as  if  God  was  making  fun  of 
me,  you  know.  But  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  take 
her  home.  On  my  way  home,  it  came  into  nry  power 
again,  by  taking  some  trouble,  to  do  another  small 
kindness  to  certain  good  friends.  I  was  just  as  uncer- 
tain where  I  stood  as  before ;  but  I  said,  '  If  there  is 
any  such  thing  as  putting  God  under  bonds,  I  will  do 
it.  He  shall  have  no  excuse  for  not  obliging  me  in 
my  indisposition  to  oblige  others.'  "Well,  I  have  not 
got  over  it  }'et.  Here  is  my  pretty  handmaiden,  neat 
and  trim  and  tidy,  intelligent,  capable,  sweet-tempered, 
quiet,  respectful,  modest,  —  a  girl  that  I  can  really 
love,  not  with  what  theologians  call  the  love  of  benev- 
olence, but  with  the  love  of  complacenc3T,  —  a  servant 


PRAYER.  241 

who  is  in  her  place  a  lady.  Now,  as  she  moves  about 
the  house  with  noiseless  footfall,  as  I  see  the  brown 
hair  put  smoothly  back  from  her  delicate  forehead,  as 
I  mark  the  varjing  flush  in  her  round  cheek,  as  I  look 
into  her  deep,  earnest  eyes,  it  is  not  simply  that  a 
helpful,  healthful  Scotch  lassie  is  making  life  pleasant 
to  me ;  but  I  say  over  and  over  again  in  mute  apos- 
trophe, '  I  wonder  if  God  did  send  you.'  It  is  such 
a  perfect  answer,  that  it  does  not  seem  as  if  it  could 
be  an  answer  at  all.  But,  if  it  is  not  an  answer, 
should  you  think  God  would  let  it  happen  so  ?  " 

Wise  men  of  the  East  and  of  the  West,  this  is  not 
argument.  It  is  hardly  illustration.  It  is  only  a 
specimen  of  the  way  in  which  the  minds  of  the  un- 
learned work.  You  know  perfectly  well  that  God  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  but  that  it  was  simply  the 
result  of  long  trains  of  Scotch  history  and  American 
politics.  But  political  and  historical  scholars  are  few  ; 
while  the  men  and  women  are  many  in  the  world,  who, 
not  with  gong  and  trumpet,  in  the  open  squares,  but 
silently,  in  their  own  hearts,  in  a  thousand  modes  and 
forms,  are  putting  God  to  the  test.  "There  is  no 
speech  nor  language.  Their  voice  is  not  heard.'' 
They  can  give  no  physical  nor  metaphysical  formula 
that  can  for  a  moment  resist  your  logic  ;  but  it  is  borne 
in  upon  them  somehow,  that  God  stands  the  test ;  and 
against  this  solid,  deep-seated,  lifelong  conviction, 
believe  me,  you  will  never  make  any  headway. 


TEA-PAETY  SALVATION. 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION. 

|HE  problem  of  saving  young  men  from  moral 
destruction  in  large  cities  is  of  vital  impor- 
tance to  the  Church,  and  perhaps  an  incident 
.  .  .  may  help  to  solve  it.  For  two  evenings  in  suc- 
cession, one  of  the  elders  of"  [a  certain]  "  church  had 
noticed  two  young  men  in  the  lecture-room,  appar- 
ently strangers  in  the  city.  Entering  into  conversa- 
tion, he  found  that  neither  belonged  to  any  church 
organization,  but  both  were  favorably  disposed  in  that 
direction.  In  response  to  a  question,  one  of  the  37oung 
men  said,  that  it  was  the  first  time  in  seven  years" 
[they  had  been  that  time  in ]  "that  any  Chris- 
tian man  had  spoken  to  him  about  his  soul.  The  elder 
invited  the  3roung  men  to  take  tea  with  him  at  his 
house,  which  they  accepted.  The  sequel  was,  that 
both  young  men  became  regular  attendants  upon  the 
sabbath  school  and  church ;  and  both  are  now  con- 
verted and  active  members  of. the  church.  The 
incident  has  a  moral  and  a  sermon  in  it." 

The  incident  has  two  sermons  in  it.     The  one  more 

21*  215 


246  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

commonly  preached  is  to  church-members,  to  the  effect, 
that,  if  a  young  man  loses  his  soul,  it  is  rather  their 
fault,  in  that  they  have  not  ' '  spoken ' '  to  him  about 
it.  The  other  was  preached,  many  years  ago,  to  the 
young  man  himself:  "  If  thou  art  wise,  thou  art  wise 
for  thyself ;  but,  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear 
it." 

It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  the  problem  of  saving 
young  men  from  moral  destruction  is  of  vital  impor- 
tance to  the  Church ;  but  it  is  also  undeniable,  that 
it  is  of  equally  vital  importance  to  the  young  men. 
Selfishness,  indifference  to  our  neighbor's  weal,  and 
neglect  of  his  claims,  are  sins ;  but  the  warmest 
Christian  interest  in  another's  welfare  is  always  to 
be  cherished  in  deference  to  the  requirements  of  good 
breeding  and  good  sense.  Much  of  our  religious  talk 
seems  to  proceed  on  the  assumption  that  a  young  man 
is  a  moral  infant,  who  must  be  kept  from  hurting  him- 
self by  ecclesiastical  petting.  There  is  strength  in  as- 
sociation ;  but,  if  association  is  to  relieve  a  grown  man 
from  the  necessity  of  standing  alone,  it  cannot  be  too 
soon  dissolved.  The  object  of  combination  is  to  util- 
ize, not  neutralize,  strength.  Strength  is  to  be  turned 
into  force,  not  into  weakness. 

Here  is  a  young  man  who  has  been  seven  years  in  a 
church-going  city,  —  himself  a  church-goer,  —  and  says 
this  is  the  first  time  any  Christian  man  has  spoken  to 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION.  247 

him  about  his  soul.  What  does  he  mean  ?  There  are 
churches  in  that  city :  there  are  }~oung  men's  Christian 
associations,  to  which  every  young  man  is  again  and 
again,  and  in  many  ways,  welcomed.  There  are  min- 
isters who  every  Sunday  are  honestly  and  earnestly 
trying  to  point  out  to  their  hearers  the  way  of  life. 
Every  word  spoken  was  intended  for  these  young  men. 
They  had,  moreover,  the  Bible  and  all  the  insti- 
tutions of  a  Christian  city.  Every  avenue  to  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  was  as  wide  open  to  them  as  the 
clergy  and  the  church  could  open  it.  No  elder  of  any 
church  can  tell  them  how  to  become  a  Christian,  any 
better  than  they  can  tell  themselves.  The  Bible  is 
his  source  of  information ;  and  a  New  Testament  can 
be  bought  anywhere  for  twenty-five  cents.  Instead 
of  censuring  the  neglect  of  the  churches,  I  censure 
the  egotism  of  the  young  men.  It  was  not  that 
no  Christian  had  spoken  to  them  about  their  souls, 
but  that  no  one  had  taken  notice  of  their  special 
personality.  No  one  had  flattered  their  vanity  by 
addressing  them  as  Mr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Brown.  They 
would  not  join  the  church  until  they  had  been  invited 
to  tea. 

Many  years  ago,  a  half-witted  negro,  called  Pompey, 
was  to  be  hung  for  having  murdered  his  master.  The 
Sunday  before  his  execution  he  was  taken  to  church, 
and  sat,  the  sermon  through,  on  a  stool  in  the  broad 


248  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

aisle.  The  minister  prayed  for  him  fervently;  but 
when  he  was  returned  to  his  cell,  and  asked  if  he  heard 
the  prayer,  he  asserted  and  insisted  that  the  minister 
had  not  pra}Ted  for  him  at  all.  "He  never  said, 
6  Poor  Pomp '  once."  The  good  clergyman  was  in- 
formed of  Pompey's  incredulity  ;  and  in  the  afternoon 
he  prayed  with  renewed  and  real  fervor  for  "Poor 
Pomp  "  by  name,  to  Pompey's  great  edification  and 
consolation. 

Young  men  in  this  age  and  country  have  no  more 
reason  to  charge  neglect  upon  church-members  for  not 
speaking  to  them  about  their  souls  than  had  Pomp  to 
charge  neglect  upon  his  pastor.  All  their  grievance  is, 
that  the  deacons  do  not  say,  "Poor  Pomp."  They 
have  not  been  invited  to  tea.  I  do  not  say  that  the 
elders  shall  not,  for  Christ  and  the  Church,  invite  them 
to  tea,  and  talk  about  their  souls.  If  they  have  no 
power  to  reason,  if  they  have  no  original  thought,  if 
they  have  no  conviction  and  no  principle,  perhaps 
there  is  nothing  left  but  to  work  upon  their  emotion. 
If  "  poor  Pomp  "  is  helped  by  the  mention  of  his  name 
to  reach  feebly  up  to  God,  it  is  a  small  thing  —  and 
yet  not  small  —  to  name  him.  But  I  do  say  that  the 
young  man  is  egotistic,  self-conceited,  and,  as  yet,  very 
shallow,  who  brings  this  forward  as  a  reason  why  he 
has  not  joined  the  church.  That  is  a  question  for 
himself  to  decide.     Either  it  is  his  duty,  or  it  is  not. 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION.  249 

Society  furnishes  him  with  every  opportunity  of 
enlightenment  on  the  subject.  No  man  has  spoken  to 
him  about  his  soul  ?  But  has  he  spoken  to  any  man 
about  his  ?  The  church-member  has  no  more  responsi- 
bility for  the  young  man's  soul  than  the  young  man  has 
for  the  church-member's.  Whatever  the  pulpit  says  to 
its  elders,  it  ought  ever  and  ever  to  say  to  the  young 
man:  "If  thou  art  wise,  thou  art  wise  for  thyself; 
but,  if  thou  scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear  it."  What 
the  State  and  the  Church  want,  is,  not  the  surging  and 
swaying  of  the  populace,  not  the  blind  force  of  an 
unreasoning  multitude,  not  people  who  go  as  they 
are  led,  but  strong  individual  character,  —  young 
men  and  3*oung  women  who  think  for  themselves  ;  who 
unite  with  the  church,  or  remain  outside,  from  intelli- 
gent conviction,  from  well  founded  principle,  —  men 
who  can  give  a  reason  for  their  hope  and  their  action  ; 
who  can  reject  error  without  becoming  disgusted  with 
truth ;  who  can  resist  temptation,  without  crying  to 
others  to  resist  that  which  is  no  temptation  ;  who  can 
do  right  simply  and  naturally,  without  making  a  scene, 
and  without  calling  upon  bystanders  to  come  and 
behold  how  sublimely  they  are  devoting  themselves  to 
the  cause  of  Christ ;  who  can  stand  erect,  without 
clamoring  to  be  bolstered  up  by  religious  nurses,  or 
supported  by  ecclesiastical  standing-stools  ;  who  go  to 
church  to  worship  God,  and  not  to  be  patted  on  the 


250  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

back  by  an  elder ;  who  walk  the  narrow  path  in  stout 
leathern  shoes  and  with  their  own  oaken  staff,  and  do 
not  need  to  be  escorted  along  on  tiptoe  by  some 
sturdier  servitor. 

Different  cases  require  different  treatment.  There 
is  no  law  save  the  universal  law  of  love  and  wisdom. 
Doubtless  there  are  times  when  a  gentle  and  friendly 
word  falls  like  balm  on  the  wounded  spirit.  Blessed 
is  the  man  who  pours  in  oil  and  wine.  Doubtless 
there  are  shrinking  and  sensitive  souls  that  must  be 
won  out  of  their  shadowy  solitude  into  the  more 
wholesome  sunshine  of  companionship.  There  are 
reckless,  rollicking  revellers,  whom  a  word  ma}^  touch, 
whom  a  tender  solicitude  may  soften,  when  sermons 
and  books  would  glance  off,  and  leave  them  unmoved. 
But  behind  all  these  remains  a  class  whose  stock  in 
trade  is  innuendoes,  insinuations,  and  .accusations 
against  the  Church,  — men  who  want  to  be  coaxed  and 
cajoled  ;  who  love  the  little  sensation  of  standing  out, 
and  having  the  Church  bemoan  itself  over  its  languor 
and  laxity  in  bringing  them  in  ;  who  reckon  themselves 
a  sort  of  martyr  to  the  neglect  of  Christians. 

To  such  it  seems,  sometimes,  as  if  it  would  be  well 
to  preach  the  gospel  after  another  fashion,  —  at  least, 
by  way  of  experiment,  —  and  say,  "  Why,  go  to  the 
Devil,  if  you  choose.  It  is  nobody's  affair  but  your 
own.     If  you  prefer  dissipation  and  death  to  honor  and 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION.  251 

life,  who  is  the  loser?  You  may  bring  shame  to  inno- 
cence, and  grief  to  gray  hairs  ;  but  their  trouble  is 
short,  and  to  them  "  jo}r  cometh  in  the  morning."  It 
is  your  own  self,  and  nobod}'  else,  who  will  bear  the 
sorrow  and  the  scar  forever.  But  you  are  a  free  agent. 
Go  your  own  way.  If  you  prefer  to  sta}r  outside,  on  a 
fancied  punctilio,  rather  than  come  in  to  our  hospitality 
and  societ}7 ;  if  you  think  it  more  manly  to  stand  aloof, 
and  criticise  the  brethren,  than  to  cast  in  }Tour  lot  with 
them,  at  the  risk  of  being  yourself  criticised,  — do  so. 
"  If  thou  art  wise,  thou  art  wise  for  thyself."  But  do 
not  think,  that,  in  so  doing,  you  are  rebuking  the 
brethren,  or  approving  yourself  a  martyr.  You  are  but 
showing  }rourself  a  foolish  and  sentimental  young 
person,  who  needs,  like  Mr.  Small  weed,  a  thorough 
shaking-up.  You  cannot  yourself  think  3rour  soul  is 
of  any  great  account,  if  you  will  maunder  on  seven 
years  because  nobody  happened  to  speak  to  }tou  about 
it." 

This  may  seem  a  harsh  gospel,  and  I  admit  that  it 
should  not  be  indiscriminately  preached  ;  but  I  am 
sure  there  is  a  mental  fibre  that  needs  it. 

The  ignorant  and  stupid  outcasts  of  civilization,  the 
unhappy,  poverty-stricken  waifs  who  have  not  so  much 
as  heard  whether  there  be  any  Holy  Ghost,  any  Christ, 
anj-  loving  Father,  —  these  must  be  minutely  and  per- 
haps individually  instructed  ;  but  why  should  an  intel- 


252         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

ligent,  church-going  adult  need  any  one  to  speak  to 
him  about  his  soul  ?  Especially  why  should  he  wish  or 
expect  a  stranger  to  do  so  ?  It  is  a  delicate  matter, 
when  3*011  come  to  that.  There  are  few  more  cloistered 
and  sacred  possessions  than  a  man's  soul.  If  the 
principle  is  once  established,  that  the  presence  of  a 
person  in  church  is  sufficient  reason  for  any  member  to 
question  him  about  the  most  interior  concerns  of  life, 
the  result  will  be,  that  persons  who  have  any  individu- 
ality worth  speaking  of  will  stay  away  from  church. 
Some  learned  and  pious  ancient  worthy  is  said  to  have 
made  a  resolution  never  to  talk  with  any  one  five  min- 
utes, without  speaking  about  the  salvation  of  his  soul. 
Would  he  think  it  proper  to  introduce  the  topic  of  a 
man's  income,  courtship,  or  domestic  economy  after 
an  acquaintance  of  five  minutes?  Yet  these  are  con- 
cerns far  less  intimate  than  religion.  They  concern 
only  a  man's  dealings  with  his  fellow-beings  :  religion 
concerns  his  relations  with  his  Maker,  —  relations 
which  even  to  himself  are  but  imperfectly  compre- 
hended, and  by  his  Maker  only  are  thoroughly  under- 
stood. Shall  the  acquaintance  of  five  minutes' 
standing  presume  to  intermeddle  ? 

But  it  is  said  that  these  relations  are  of  so  much 
more  importance  than  any  other  as  to  justify  extraor- 
dinary measures.  Extraordinary  caution,  but  not 
extraordinary   precipitancy.      The    more    momentous 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION.  253 

and  delicate  an  affair,  the  more  careful  should  we  be 
in  treating  it.  It  is  safer  to  leave  the  intelligent  mind, 
the  enlightened  heart,  of  our  age  and  country,  to  the 
influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  working  through  Church 
and  Bible  and  Divine  Providence,  than  it  is  to  attempt 
to  mould  it  with  irreverent  and  unskilful  hand.  When 
Uriah  profaned  the  ark  of  God  with  unseemly  touch, 
he  not  only  lost  his  life,  but  he  did  not  advance  the 
ark.  The  amount  of  mischief  that  is  done  by  a  coarse 
handling  of  the  soul's  most  delicate  concerns  has 
never  been  estimated  ;  but  souls  are  grievously  marred. 
We  are  told  of  the  persons,  here  and  there,  rescued 
from  sin  by  a  rough  and  ready  word  ;  but  no  account 
has  ever  been  kept  of  those  who  have  been  repelled, 
disgusted,  and  alienated. 

I  question  the  kind  of  conversion  that  comes  of  hob- 
nobbing, Unless  a  man  is  convicted  of  sin,  and  con- 
vinced of  truth,  strongly  enough  to  come  out  against 
the  one,  and  for  the  other,  of  his  own  will  and  motion, 
is  any  thing  accomplished  ?  Tea-drinking  and  caresses 
and  S3Tnpathy  are  pleasant ;  but  they  are  not  principle. 
It  is  pleasanter  to  be  taken  by  the  hand  to  a  cheerful 
home  than  to  go  to  a  boarding-house  alone ;  but  it  is 
an  appeal  to  the  social,  and  not  to  the  religious  nature. 
I  do  not  say  it  is  wrong  or  undesirable :  on  the  con- 
trary, not  only  Christianity,  but  humanity,  demands, 
that,  on  every  possible  occasion,  we  should  let  our  light 

22 


254  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

shine,  —  the  light  of  home  and  love  and  human  brother- 
hood no  less  than  that  of  integrity  and  uprightness. 
But  that  does  not  dispense  with  the  necessit}"  of  dis- 
criminating between  affection,  gratitude,  and  social 
magnetism,  on  one  side,  and  innate  rectitude  on  the 
other.  The  result  of  our  ecclesiastical  tactics  does 
not  indicate  so  brilliant  a  success  as  to  forbid  all 
question  as  to  the  wisdom  of  the  methods  by  which  it 
has  been  obtained.  Neither  in  the  quantity  nor  the 
quality  of  our  church-membership  are  we  invulnerable. 
We  are  not  sufficiently  rooted  and  grounded  in  the 
faith  that  conversion  is  good  for  an}-  thing  only  as  it 
affects  character.  If  the  onty  change  is,  that  a  man 
goes  regularly  to  church  and  Sunday  school,  while  for- 
merly he  went  to  neither,  he  might  as  well  have  staid 
unconverted.  If  the  only  result  of  the  tea-party  be, 
that  a  3'oung  man  is  now  an  active  member  of  the 
church,  whereas  he  was  formerly  no  member  at  all,  the 
elder  who  invited  him  has  not  got  back  the  money's 
worth  of  his  tea.  A  man  is  not  necessarily  a  particle 
better  for  teaching  in  Sunday  schools,  or  going  to 
prayer-meetings.  To  draw  him  into  the  church  by 
flattering  his  vanity,  b}r  ministering  to  his  self-love,  by 
making  him  an  important  and  conspicuous  partner  in  a 
close  corporation,  is  not  certainly  improving  either  the 
man  or  the  church.  He  ought  to  come  in  by  his  own 
mind's   working  and   his   own  heart's  leaning.      He 


TEA-PARTY  SALVATION.  255 

ought  to  come  in,  at  once  being  and  becoming  a 
stronger  man,  more  patient,  more  energetic,  more  con- 
siderate, more  temperate  or  more  spirited,  more  indus- 
trious or  less  worldly,  more  generous  or  less  prodigal, 
more  severe  or  more  lenient,  according  to  his  weak- 
ness. It  does  not  signify  whether  or  not  he  is  ready 
to  lead  the  brethren  in  prayer  ;  but  is  he  less  grasping 
in  his  dealings  than  he  was,  less  vain,  less  self- 
centred,  less  exacting?  Do  the  sinners  whom  he 
trades  with  find  him  more  punctual  in  keeping  his 
engagements  ?  Is  he  more  careful  not  to  be  sharp  and 
selfish  at  home  ?  Is  he  more  charitable  in  judgment, 
more  intolerant  of  rascality,  even  in  respectable  garb? 
It  is  not  those  who  are  the  most  forward  to  speak,  or 
to  be  spoken  to,  about  their  souls,  who  have  necessarily 
the  most  pure  and  undented  and  trustworthy  religion. 
There  are  people  who  would  rather  be  talked  about  as 
backsliders  than  not  be  talked  about  at  all.  There  are 
people  who  will  boast  of  the  enormity  of  their  sins  as 
if  it  were  a  feather  in  their  cap.  And  I  know  a  woman 
who  never  sings  more  merrily  at  her  washtub  than 
when  she  has  set  a  whole  class-meeting  groaning  and 
praying  over  her  "  fall  from  grace." 

It  only  needs  a  certain  degree  of  self-confidence, 
self-conceit,  and  coarseness,  to  enable  anybody  to 
' '  speak ' '  to  anybody.  What  we  need  is  not  en- 
couragement to  prey  upon  our  neighbor's  privacy,  but 


256  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

warning  to  respect  it.  Young  people  need  far  less  aid 
in  laying  their  personal  responsibility  upon  others,  and 
refusing  to  be  upright,  except  upon  the  church's  soli- 
citation, than  in  learning  the  meaning  and  dignity  of 
silence,  and  the  profound  reverence,  which,  under  all 
circumstances,  and  on  every  occasion,  should  be  paid 
to  the  living  soul. 


THE  LAND  OF  BKOKEN  PEOIISE. 


THE  LAND  OF  BROKEN  PROMISE. 

[HE  reverend  and  venerable  Dr.  Woolsey,  late 
president  of  Yale  College,  publicly  expresses 
his  dismay  at  our  national  plight,  and  our 
especial  need  of  hope,  "  aside  from  personal  consider- 
ations, when  the  affairs  of  the  country  are  conducted 
with  so  little  wisdom,  and  when  political  corruption 
seems  to  be  becoming  more  and  more  rampant." 

Mr.  James  Russell  Lowell  is  made  so  uncomfortable 
by  reading  American  newspapers  abroad,  that  he  in- 
troduces into  a  solemn  and  stately  elegiac  poem  upon 
Agassiz  the  teacher,  his  deep  disgust  with  the  country 
of  his  birth  and  of  Agassiz's  adoption.  This  song 
sings  he  from  over  the  sea :  — 

"  The  festering  news  we  half  despise, 
Yet  scramble  for,  no  less, 
And  read  of  public  scandal,  private  fraud; 
Crime  flaunting  scot-free,  while  the  mob  applaud; 
Office  made  vile  to  bribe  unwortbiness; 
And  all  tbe  unwholesome  mess. 
The  Land  of  Broken  Promise  serves  of  late 
To  teach  the  Old  World  how  to  wait." 

259 


260  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

And,  as  all  roads  lead  to  Rome,  "The  Congregation- 
alist,"  one  of  the  oldest,  ablest,  and  most  influential 
religious  newspapers  in  the  countiy,  deduces  from  the 
Mill  River  disaster  the  rather  remarkable  moral  reflec- 
tion, that  our  own  community,  and  our  whole  nation, 
should  ' '  be  admonished  by  it  of  a  danger  in  which  we 
are,  from  the  great  volume  of  political  corruption 
reservoired  at  Washington,  which  ever  and  anon  gives 
warning  of  its  dangerous  power,  and  which  at  any 
moment  may  deluge  the  broad  land  with  distress. 
Charles  Reade's  attempted  remedjr  was  to  '  blow  up 
the  waste-weir.'  If  something  could  be  seasonably 
blown  up  at  the  capital,  there  might  be  less  danger  to 
the  land." 

The  affairs  of  this  Land  of  Broken  Promise  are  con- 
ducted by — or  we  may  sa}^,  "the  reservoir  of  political 
corruption  at  Washington"  is  divided  into — three 
departments,  —  the  executive,  the  judicial,  and  the 
legislative.  The  President,  the  head  of  the  Executive 
Department,  is  a  regularly  educated  man,  a  graduate 
of  West  Point.  The  Vice-President  is  not  a  graduate, 
but  is  a  member  of  an  evangelical  church  in  good 
and  regular  standing.  Of  the  seven  members  of  the 
cabinet,  the  advisory  council  of  the  Executive,  at  least 
five  have  a  college  education.  Of  the  nine  judges 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  I  assume  (what  I  do  not  know) 
that  all  are  graduates  of  colleges,     Of  three  hundred 


TEE  LAND  OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  261 

and  forty-eight  members  of  the  present  Congress, 
one  hundred  and  seventy  are  recorded  as  having  re- 
ceived a  college-education,  most  of  them  being  gradu- 
ates. A  very  large  majority  of  the  remaining  one 
hundred  and  seventy-eight  —  so  large,  that  we  may 
say  all,  with  a  few  exceptions — have  received  an  aca- 
demic education.  The  ratio  of  liberally  educated,  and 
even  of  college  educated,  men  in  the  National  Govern- 
ment, is,  therefore,  overwhelmingly  larger  than  that  out- 
side of  government.  It  is  safe  to  assume  (and,  if  I  am 
wrong,  I  can  easily  be  proved  wrong  by  exact  sta- 
tistics) ,  that  of  the  eight  millions  of  adult  men,  who, 
according  to  the  ordinary  rule  of  ratio,  may  be  reck- 
oned citizens  of  the  United  States,  not  more  than  fifty 
thousand  are  college  graduates.  Of  the  Executive  De- 
partment, then,  two-thirds  are  college  graduates.  Of 
the  Judicial  Departments,  all  are  college  graduates. 
Of  the  Legislative  Department,  nearty,  if  not  quite, 
one-half  are  college-bred,  and  nearly  all  have  an  aca- 
demic training ;  while,  outside  of  Congress,  the  college- 
men  are  only  one  in  one  hundred  and  sixty  of  the 
whole  male  adult  population.  When  we  reflect,  that, 
almost  universally,  the  colleges  and  academies  of  the 
country  —  if  not  dedicated  definitely  and  formally,  like 
Harvard  University,  to  Christ  and  the  Church  —  were 
yet  founded  in  the  interests  of  religion  as  truly  as 
of  science,  by  devout  and  learned  men,  we  see  that 


262  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

government  is  not  made  up  of  the  scum  and  dregs  of 
our  country,  nor  even  of  its  average  "  sweetness 
and  light ;  "  but  it  is  the  outcome  of  our  churches  and 
colleges,  the  product  of  what  is  considered  to  be  our 
highest  intelligence  and  virtue.  If,  then,  the  average 
wisdom  and  honesty  of  the  government  be  less  than 
those  of  the  outside  world,  it  certainly  leads  to  the  sup- 
position, that  church  and  college  train  to  weakness  and 
wickedness,  and  not  to  purity  and  strength.  It  would 
seem  that  the  fountains  of  political  corruption  are  to  be 
found  in  our  nurseries  of  religion  and  learning.  Nor,  I 
trust,  will  it  be  deemed  impertinent  for  me  to  suggest 
to  college  faculties  and  other  clergy,  that  though 
standing  afar  off,  and  "blowing  up  something"  at 
Washington,  is  a  favorite  and  an  easy  method  of 
political  reformation,  it  may  not  really  be  the  most 
thorough,  rational,  and  effective.  When  our  schools  and 
academies,  our  colleges  and  churches,  have  so  remod- 
elled their  modes  of  study  and  their  moral  influence  as 
to  become  potent  for  good  rather  than  for  evil ;  when 
the}r  can  contribute  to  the  government  men  stronger 
against  temptation,  nobler  in  the  adoption  of  ends,  and 
wiser  in  the  pursuit  of  means,  than  are  reared  outside 
of  college-walls,  —  then  may  we  look  for  political  re- 
generation. But  so  long  as  the  body-politic  outside  of 
government — of  which  the  very  offscouring  of  the  earth 
is   a  large  component  part,    and   into  which   comes 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  263 

liberal  education  in  a  severely  diminished  ratio  —  is  a 
comparatively  virtuous  and  pure  body,  and  the  body 
called  government  —  though  almost  entirely  free  from 
the  low  element  characterized  as  the  "  dangerous 
classes,"  and  composed  largely  of  the  very  flower  of 
civilization  and  Christianity  —  is  so  filthy  and  nau- 
seous as  to  be  a  "reservoir  of  political  corruption," 
from  whose  defilement  the  purer  outside  world  should 
be  defended,  it  must  be  agreed  that  our  science  and 
our  Christianity  are  both  failures,  and  that  the  most 
urgent  need  of  the  day  is  a  radical  reform  in  our  insti- 
tutions of  learning  and  religion. 

I  speak  as  a  fool,  "yet  as  a  fool  receive  me." 
My  acquaintance  with  colleges  is  limited ;  yet  such 
straws  as  I  have  seen  fluttering  harmonize  with  the 
above  recorded  facts  in  marking  the  direction  of  the 
wind.  When  a  young  man  of  cultivated  and  honored 
ancestiy,  having  reached  his  twentieth  year  not  only 
without  reproach,  but  with  signal  honor,  becomes  a 
member  of  that  university  of  which  Prof.  James  Russell 
Lowell  is  so  distinguished  an  ornament,  to  be,  in  his 
senior  }Tear,  expelled  with  his  fair  young  name  tar- 
nished, and  his  future  marred ;  when,  in  the  same 
university,  a  young  man  attends  recitation  every  day, 
and  is  summoned  to  recite  only  once  in  four  weeks  ; 
when  a  man  whose  European  reputation  is  wider  even 
than  that  of  Mr.  James  Russell  Lowell  declares  that 


264  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

the  headquarters  of  Harvard  College  are  in  the  Parker 
House  bar-room,  and  all  the  Harvard  world  applauds 
the  ' '  hit ;  "  when  an  express-box  brought  to  a  student's 
door  suggests  u  wine "  to  the  first  passer-by;  when 
that  member  of  the  cabinet  who  has  been  most  de- 
nounced for  incapacity,  not  to  say  imbecility,  for 
connivance  at  fraud,  not  to  say  fraud,  for  insignifi- 
cance, not  to  say  imperceptibility  (I  am  not  now  pre- 
suming to  give  an  opinion  of  my  own,  but  am  merely 
stating  the  case  as  our  journals  give  it),  when  this 
secretary  is  a  graduate  with  honors  from  Harvard 
Universit}',  —  I  cannot  help  suspecting  that  no  incon- 
siderable part  of  the  "unwholesome  mess"  which 
disturbed  the  digestion  of  Prof.  James  Russell  Lowell 
was  cooked  at  the  university  with  which  his  name  is 
indissolubly  connected.  When  I  hear  the  president 
of  that  college  which  Dr.  Woolsey  for  many  years 
distinguished  by  his  fame,  and  nurtured  with  his  coun- 
sels, characterizing  an  assemblage  of  twenty  or  thirty 
of  his  own  students  as  "  a  drunken  crowd  ;  "  when  its 
attempts  at  discipline  are  so  clumsy,  that  a  New  York 
newspaper,  prominent  for  courtesy  and  calm  compre- 
hensiveness, and  wholly  friendly  to  the  college,  rebukes 
it  for  inflicting  "  most  arbitrary  and  excessively  unjust 
punishment  for  questionable  offence,"  —  I  cannot  think 
that  the  "  little  wisdom"  of  the  National  Government 
is  the  nearest  target  for  Dr.  Woolsey' s  arrows.     When 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  265 

the  secret  society  of  a  college  carries  its  brutal  and 
bacchanal  initiation  orgies  to  the  cruel  death  of  the 
student  to  be  initiated ;  when  the  servile  and  stupid 
custom  of  hazing  has  been  allowed  to  take  such  root 
in  our  colleges,  that  the  effort  to  extirpate  it  is  heard 
from  Michigan  to  Maine  ;  when  resistance  to  constituted 
authority  goes  to  the  length  of  a  secession  of  two  whole 
classes  ;  and  the  relation  between  teacher  and  taught, 
even  in  our  most  prominent  colleges,  is  publicly,  and 
without  contradiction,  characterized  as  "  a  system  of 
mere  arbitrary  and  irresponsible  power  on  the  one 
hand,  and,  of  course,  of  antagonism,  and  often  rebel- 
lion, on  the  other,"  —  I  cannot  admit  that  the  National 
Government  is  par  excellence  the  corporate  bod}'  which 
stands  in  need  of  more  wisdom,  and  demands  the 
greatest  help  from  hope.  It  is  not  unnatural  that 
college  officers,  with  all  their  traditions  and  habits  of 
absolute  sovereignty,  should  be  impatient  at  the  slow 
and  halting  steps  of  a  government  hampered  by  con- 
stitutional law  and  the  rights  of  the  individual ;  but, 
apart  from  the  fact  that  our  National  Government  has 
not  the  power  to  compel  all  men  —  even  in  its  own 
employ  or  its  own  constituency  —  to  be  virtuous,  the 
success  of  the  colleges  in  compelling  their  own  students 
to  virtue  has  not  been  so  brilliant  as  to  make  any  large 
portion  of  our  countrymen  desirous  to  change,  with 
all  its  drawbacks,  the  national  for  the  collegiate  form 
of  government.  23 


266  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

It  cannot  be  supposed  that  Mr.  James  Russell 
Lowell,  writing  from  a  far,  foreign  country,  and  loving 
his  own  with  the  idealization  wrhich  absence  and 
distance  always  lend,  could  formally  and  publicly 
brand  her  with  a  name  of  dishonor,  without  an  over- 
powering cause,  as  well  as  the  bitterest  pain. 

What  wras  that  cause?  What  does  Mr.  Lowell 
mean  when  he  names  the  United  States  "  The  Land  of 
Broken  Promise "  ?  What  promise  has  our  country 
made,  and  what  has  she  failed  to  keep,  that  she  should 
be  signalized  above  all  nations  as  the  land  of  broken 
promise?  Her  Declaration  of  Independence  and  her 
Constitution  are  the  formal  statement  of  her  faith  and 
practice,  and  the  standard  by  which  she  should  be 
judged.  Has  she  been  false  to  the  one  or  to  the 
other  ?  Has  she  failed  to  maintain  her  independence  ? 
Has  she  faltered  in  her  efforts  to  secure  to  her  people 
life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  or  to  derive 
the  power  of  her  government  from  the  consent  of  the 
governed?  Has  she  been  careless  to  form  a  perfect 
union,  to  establish  justice,  to  insure  domestic  tranquil- 
lity, to  provide  for  the  common  defence,  to  promote 
the  general  welfare,  to  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty? 
Has  she  been  reckless  of  the  Constitution  expressly 
framed  for  the  furtherance  of  these  ends?  It  is  not 
simply  that  she  fought  eight  years  to  maintain  her 
independence,  and  four  years  to  uphold  her  Constitu- 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  267 

tion  (at  what  a  cost  of  blood,  none  knows  better  than 
Mr.  Lowell)  :  it  is  that  she  has  been  so  successful  in 
securing  independence,  she  prizes  so  highly  the  free- 
dom she  has  won,  that  her  pride  and  exultation  have 
become  proverbial,  —  a  theme  for  the  gay  banter  of  her 
friends,  the  malignant  caricature  of  her  foes.  It  is 
that  her  Constitution  is  so  fixed  in  the  regard  of  the 
people,  that  it  forms  the  ultimate  appeal  of  the  bitterest 
partisan  of  all  parties.  The  one  unpardonable  sin  of 
the  political  world,  which  is  not  to  be  so  much  as 
named  among  us,  is  violation  of  the  Constitution. 
What  other  promise  has  America  made  to  the  world 
than  individual  liberty  and  constitutional  government 
of  the  people  by  the  people  ? 

Or  is  it  not  the  government,  but  the  individuals 
who  compose  the  nation,  who  give  the  nation  its  bad 
pre-eminence?  But  when  have  we  even  promised  to 
secure  universal  personal  perfection?  When  and 
where  did  this  country  take  out  a  patent  for  private 
individual  regeneration?  Nowhere  but  in  the  brains 
of  theorists.  The  men  who  founded,  and  the  men  who 
sustain,  this  nation,  know  well  that  it  is  not  a  form  of 
government  which  moulds  character,  but  character 
which  shapes  the  form  of  government.  They  were 
never  so  foolish  as  to  suppose  that  human  depravity 
would  die  out  in  the  purest  republic  :  on  the  contraiy, 
they  assume,  in  the   strongest  manner,  its   indefinite 


268        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

existence  b}r  making  laws  to  restrain  and  diminish  it. 
Undoubtedly  they  believed  that  what  was  peculiar  in 
their  institutions  would  not  minister  to  vice ;  that  in 
the  greater  happiness,  freedom,  and  prosperity  which 
they  wished  to  secure,  there  would  be  less  temptation 
to,  less  commission  of  crime.  Were  they  wrong?  Is 
private  character  less  honorable  here  than  in  the  Old 
World  ?  Is  the  standard  of  truth  and  honesty  lower  ? 
Is  the  word  of  a  gentleman  less  binding?  Is  there 
less  pa}*ment  of  debt,  more  trickery  in  trade,  more 
cheating  of  servants,  less  chastit}',  less  charity,  less 
courtesy  to  women,  less  consideration  for  a  neighbor? 
On  the  contrar}',  do  not  our  higher  and  our  lower 
classes  compare  favorably  with  those  of  any  other 
country  ?  Is  an  American  less  trusted  in  the  shops  of 
Europe  than  a  Russian?  Is  an  English  gentleman 
more  courteous,  is  an  Italian  peasant  more  comfort- 
able, is  a  Prussian  mechanic  more  free,  is  a  French 
tradesman  more  honest,  is  a  Spanish  laborer  more 
intelligent,  than  his  American  comrade  ? 

"  Crime  flaunting  scot-free  while  the  mob  applauds." 

What  crime  flaunts  scot-free  ?  and  what  mob  applauds  ? 
Is  it  murder  ?  is  it  theft  ?  is  it  drunkenness  ?  On  the 
contrar}r,  this  Land  of  Broken  Promise  serves  of  late 
nothing  more  noticeable  than  a  fixed,  resolute  deter- 
mination to  ferret  out  and  annihilate  all  malefeasance 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  269 

in  office,  all  breach  of  trust.  No  "public  scandal" 
has  made  part  of  Mr.  Lowell's  "  festering  news,"  but 
in  connection  with,  and  often  in  consequence  of,  an 
effort  to  remove  it.  The  great  wickedness  of  Mr. 
Tweed  and  the  New  York  Ring  was  successful  only 
so  long  as  it  was  secret.  It  flaunted  only  to  fall.  No 
sooner  was  it  set  forth  to  the  world  than  a  universal 
rage  tore  down  upon  it,  and  scattered  its  perpetrators 
to  prison  and  to  exile.  In  a  sort  of  renaissance  of 
virtue,  our  zeal  has  sometimes  outrun  our  discretion. 
We  have  pushed  "  investigation ' '  sometimes  to  an 
absurd  and  injurious  limit,  and  to  the  distress  and 
serious  detriment  of  men  who  were  not  only  innocent, 
but  who  would  have  been  considered  innocent  by  a 
more  dispassionate  survey.  Through  mere  good- 
nature, weak,  perhaps,  and  harmful,  but  not  unmanly, 
offence  has  been  condoned,  but  never  applauded. 
Criminals  have  been,  through  mercy,  let  off  lightly; 
but  their  crime  has  not  been  flaunted.  So  strong  is 
the  determination  to  put  down  fraud,  that  our  censure 
is  often  too  swift  and  sweeping.  We  denounce  with 
too  little  discrimination.  It  is  because  the  conscience 
of  the  country  is  so  almost  morbidly  keen  and  alert, 
that  Mr.  Lowell  is  troubled  by  "festering  news."  A 
single  English  railway  pays  regularly  every  year, 
without  a  ripple  on  the  surface  of  English  society, 
seventy-five  thousand  pounds  sterling  to  the  English 

23* 


270  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

parliament  for  precisely  such  service  as  a  few  con- 
gressmen were  suspected  of  having  been,  for  a  single 
session,  urged  to  render  in  the  Credit  Mobilier  affair, 
and  the  mere  suspicion  of  which  rocked  the  whole 
country  with  alarm  and  indignation,  and  no  doubt 
hastened,  if  it  did  not  cause,  the  death  of  two  men 
most  prominently  concerned. 

Or  may  it  be  that  our  non-resumption  of  specie 
payment  constitutes  us  the  Land  of  Broken  Promise? 
But  are  we  alone  in  resorting  to  notes  of  credit  in 
order  to  sustain  the  burden  of  a  prolonged  and  costly 
war?  Is  it  not  the  common  mode  of  distributing  the 
expense?  What  great  nation  has  ever  carried  on  a 
great  war  without  it?  And,  if  so,  ma}'  we  not  have 
adopted  the  general  course,  not  from  signal  and 
degraded  love  of  cheating,  but  because  there  appears 
to  be  some  inherent  wisdom  or  necessit}'  in  the  way 
itself  ?  The  United  States  did  in  this  precisely  what 
England  did  for  twenty-three  years  during  and  after 
the  Napoleonic  wars,  —  she  had  a  paper  currency  not 
redeemed  in  gold.  England,  indeed,  went  one  great 
step  bej'ond  our  government,  for  she  made  her  people 
take  the  notes  of  the  Bank  of  England ;  whereas  our 
people  have  been  asked  only  to  take  their  own  prom- 
ises to  pay.  But,  whenever  and  wherever  the  United 
States  has  agreed  to  pay  gold,  gold  she  has  paid. 
The   old    debts,  maturing  when    our   civil   war  was 


THE   LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  271 

flagrant,  and  gold  at  an  enormous  premium,  were 
paid  at  a  fearful  cost  and  sacrifice  by  our  govern- 
ment ;  but  paid  they  were,  in  solid  coin,  to  the  utter- 
most farthing.  In  whose  eyes  does  our  Punic  faith 
make  us  the  Land  of  Broken  Promise  ?  Not  in  those 
of  our  own  people  ;  for  during  the  sudden  and  severe 
panic  of  1873,  when  great  houses  went  down,  and  no 
house  seemed  firm,  the  nation's  notes  were  in  as 
great  demand,  and  of  as  sound  value,  as  gold  in  other 
panics.  Not  in  the  eyes  of  foreign  financiers  ;  for  our 
bonds  abroad  stand  to-day  higher  than  those  of  any 
European  nation,  England  alone  excepted  ;  and  this 
in  the  markets  of  Europe.  Our  hundreds  of  millions 
of  Fives  sold  by  the  famous  syndicate,  brought  par  in 
coin ;  while  the  French  Fives,  on  the  market  at  the 
same  time,  were  sold  at  a  very  considerable  discount. 
It  has,  moreover,  been  currently  and  confidently  re- 
ported in  the  treasury  circles  of  Washington,  that 
Secretary  Bristow  had  the  most  flattering  offers  for 
funding  the  entire  amount  of  United  States  Sixes  as 
low,  possibly,  as  four  and  a  half,  certainly  as  low  as 
five, — offers,  let  it  be  remembered,  from  the  bankers 
of  Europe.  How  is  it  that  the  Land  of  Broken  Prom- 
ise maintains  this  high  credit  hy  that  most  sensitive  of 
all  tests,  the  purse?  How  is  it,  that,  if  our  promises 
be  lies,  the  people  at  home  and  abroad  seem  wholly 
given   over  to  believe   the   lie?    How  is   it  that  the 


272  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

bankers  of  Europe  repose  the  most  absolute  confidence 
in  our  integrity,  while  an  American  poet  goes  abroad 
to  hold  his  country  up  to  contumely  ? 

I  offer  no  opinion  whatever  as  to  the  right  or  the 
wrong  of  specie  basis,  or  legal  tender,  or  any  mone- 
tary measure  whatever.  It  may  be  that  we  could 
have  waged  our  war  without  paper.  It  is  easy  now  to 
say  it,  and  perhaps  not  easy  to  disprove  it,  and  per- 
haps not  possible  to  prove  it.  At  the  time,  we  thought 
we  could  not.  It  may  be  that  we  ought  to  have  dis- 
pensed with  paper  credit  before  this.  I  leave  these 
matters  entirely  untouched  ;  but  what  I  do  maintain  is, 
that  there  is  nothing  to  indicate  that  the  nation  intends 
to  forswear  her  plighted  faith,  or  that  an}T  large  number 
of  men,  either  at  home  or  abroad,  have  a  lively  fear  that 
she  will  do  so.  Repudiation  did  but  stir,  and  she  was 
beaten  down.  There  is  a  question  of  ways  and  means. 
It  may  be  that  a  country  so  wide,  with  interests  so 
diverse,  can  arrive  at  a  wise  and  harmonious  conclu- 
sion on  a  question  of  so  vital  import,  only  with  infinite 
debate  and  delay.  It  is  not  enough  that  a  course  be 
right  and  proper :  it  must  be  seen  to  be  right  and 
proper  east  and  west,  north  and  south,  by  the  igno- 
rant and  the  intelligent,  by  the  freedman  and  the  free- 
born.  We  have  never  promised  the  world,  or  ourselves, 
to  be  over-wise  in  finance ;  nor  do  we  imagine  that 
wisdom  will  die  with  us.      We  must  learn,  as  other 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  273 

natioDS  learn,  truth  by  experience.  They  are  but 
dreamers  who  imagine  that  any  form  of  government 
can  open  a  ro}-al  road  to  virtue,  fame,  or  fortune. 

Did  Agassiz,  that  Agassiz  whose  loss  Mr.  Lowell 
so  tenderly  deplores  in  the  same  breath  in  which  he 
stigmatizes  the  country  that  welcomed  and  adopted 
him,  —  did  Agassiz  find  it  a  Land  of  Broken  Promise? 
From  the  da}r  on  which  he  came,  a  stranger,  to  her 
shores,  till  the  day  on  which  he  lay  dead,  a  well- 
beloved  son,  did  she  fail  his  hope?  Did  she  refuse 
him  any  opportunity,  begrudge  him  any  means,  deny 
him  any  honor  ? 

Charles  Dickens,  inoculated  with  what  venom  I  do 
not  know,  could  write  of  "  that  republic  but  yesterday 
let  loose  upon  her  noble  course,  and  but  to-day  so 
maimed  and  lame,  so  full  of  sores  and  ulcers,  foul  to 
the  eye,  and  almost  hopeless  to  the  sense,  that  her  best 
friends  turn  from  the  loathsome  creature  in  disgust." 
But,  if  she  be  indeed  in  such  evil  case,  it  would  seem 
more  decorous  for  her  own  sons  not  to  enshrine  her 
shame  in  monumental  verse,  but  rather 

"  Pay  the  reverence  of  old  days 
To  that  dead  fame, 
Walk  backward  with  averted  gaze, 
And  hide  the  shame." 

In  the  midst  of  the  crimination  and  recrimination, 
the  accusations  and  investigations,  the  proved  guilt 


274        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and  the  uncontradicted  slander  with  which  our  news- 
papers abound,  it  is  not  strange  that  uneducated  men, 
whose  knowledge  of  history  is  derived  chiefly  from 
newspapers,  whose  acquaintance  with  the  experience 
of  other  peoples  and  other  ages  is  but  vague  and 
slight,  should  view  the  situation  with  dismay,  should 
feel  that  we  have  fallen  on  evil  days,  should  fear  that 
"  political  corruption  is  becoming  more  and  more 
rampant. ' ' 

But  it  is  surprising  to  see  educated  people  doing 
precisely  the  same  thing.  What  is  culture  for,  if  it  be 
not  to  enable  its  possessor  to  make  intelligent  compari- 
sons? What  is  the  good  of  an  acquaintance  with  the 
past,  if  it  be  not  to  give  us  a  more  accurate  judgment 
of  the  present?  The  average  length  of  life  is  said  to 
be  about  forty  }rears.  Looking  at  this  fact  alone,  and 
seeing  that  man  is  made  capable  of  living  comfortably 
for  seventy  years,  we  might  despair  of  the  future,  and 
say  that  his  ignorance  and  recklessness  had  already 
reduced  his  span  from  seventy  to  forty  years,  and  set 
the  race  on  the  sure  road  to  annihilation.  But,  when  a 
survey  of  the  past  has  informed  us  that  of  old  time  the 
average  length  of  life  was  thirty  years,  we  see  that  our 
course  is  really  in  a  different  direction  ;  and  our  jeremiad 
should  be  a  paean  that  science  and  virtue  have  already 
added  ten  years  to  the  life  of  man. 
.   Why  do  not  our  sages,  instead  of  joining  the  mob, 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  275 

and  reviling  the  present  for  vices  and  errors  which  are 
patent  to  all,  and  even  for  processes  which  are  neither 
errors  nor  vices,  — why  do  they  not  bring  out  of  their 
treasury  things  old  as  well  as  new,  and  increase  the 
value  of  popular  criticism  by  making  it  intelligent? 
The  mechanic  and  day-laborer  cannot  be  expected  to 
know ;  but  the  professor  and  the  clergyman  surely 
ought  to  know  and  teach  that  society  has  improved, 
and  not  deteriorated,  since  the  early  daj's  of  the 
republic.  It  is  less  gross,  less  animal,  more  pure  and 
elevated  ;  and  in  this  elevation  public  and  political  life 
has  shared.  What  was  tolerated  then  would  now  con- 
sign men  to  infamy.  Charges  of  corruption  were  as 
fierce  then  as  now  ;  but  man}7  things  which  would  now 
be  condemned  as  dishonest  were  then  considered  but 
a  part  of  the  "  regular  routine,"  and  have  lost  character 
only  as  the  atmosphere  has  become  clearer,  the  national 
and  private  conscience  more  sensitive. 

The  fact,  also,  that  the  names  which  we  now  hold  in 
highest  honor  were  most  sweepingly  traduced  in  their 
own  day,  ought,  it  would  seem,  to  teach  our  learned 
men  to  make  allowance  for  the  recklessness  of  eager 
and  irresponsible  persons,  whose  interest  it  is  to 
startle.  The  same  shafts  of  corruption,  intrigue,  and 
selfishness  that  are  levelled  at  the  sons  were  levelled  at 
the  fathers.  The  country  was  in  the  same  danger  then 
as  now  of  being  betrayed  and  dishonored  by  the  ignor- 


276         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

ant  and  unprincipled  men  who  were  managing  the 
government.  So  long  ago  as  March  10,  1779,  the 
disheartened  editor  declared  that  "universal  despond- 
ency seemed  to  spread  itself  through  every  class  of 
men  that  were  led  to  reflect  either  upon  the  weight  of 
domestic  calamity  or  the  political  derangement  of  the 
government." 

While  Washington  was  yet  alive,  there  were  not 
wanting  those  who  declared  that  he  had  slept  away  his 
time  in  the  field  till  the  finances  of  the  country  were 
completely  exhausted  ;  that  John  Adams  was  always  a 
speller  after  places  and  offices,  that  he  never  contem- 
plated the  origin  of  government,  or  comprehended  any 
thing  of  first  principles ;  that  John  Jay  was  always 
the  sycophant  of  every  thing  in  power ;  and  that  the 
Federalists  were  but  dignified  traitors.  "  The  charac- 
ter which  Mr.  Washington  has  attempted  to  act  in  the 
world  is  a  sort  of  non-describable,  chameleon-colored 
thing  called  '  prudence.'  It  is,  in  many  respects,  a 
substitute  for  principle ;  and  it  is  so  nearly  allied  to 
hypocrisy  that  it  easily  slides  into  it."  The  treaty 
which  this  imbecile  administration  made  with  France 
had  nothing  to  boast  of  but  the  poltroon's  right  to  let 
another  kick  him.  It  was  the  pusillanimity  of  the 
Washington  faction  that  brought  upon  America  the 
loss  of  character  she  suffered  in  the  world.  The  wan- 
ton profligacy  of  John  Adams  and  his  friends  made 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  277 

him  seem  like  a  debauched  libertine,  whom  a  rich  and 
virtuous  woman  had  selected  for  her  husband,  spend- 
ing all  she  was  worth,  and  getting  into  debt  every  day. 
Parson  Read  of  Massac  husetts  is  accused  of  getting 
six  dollars  a  day  in  Congress,  and  paying  half  a  dollar 
to  a  young  sprig  of  divinity  for  every  sermon  preached 
for  the  old  parson  while  at  Congress.  The  last  day 
of  Washington's  administration  was  hailed  with  delight 
as  the  beginning  of  an  era  in  whLh  his  name  should 
cease  to  give  a  currency  to  political  iniquity,  and  to 
legalize  corruption.  Had  a  fastidious  gentleman  been 
living  in  Paris  in  1777  and  1778,  his  ears  would  have 
been  as  much  offended  by  "festering  news  "  of  that 
mischievous  and  intriguing  commission  of  which  Ben- 
jamin Franklin  was  at  the  head  as  they  have  been  by 
any  public  scandal  or  private  fraud  in  this  year  of 
grace  1875. 

It  was  Mr.  Arthur  Lee  who  found  fault,  and  it  was 
Benjamin  Franklin  with  whom  the  fault  was  found,  in 
our  negotiations  with  France.  "It  is  impossible  to 
describe  to  you,"  writes  this  pure,  this  patriotic,  this 
incorruptible  man,  "to  what  a  degree  this  kind  of 
intrigue  has  disgraced,  confounded,  and  injured  our 
affairs  here.  The  observation  of  this  at  headquarters 
has  encouraged  and  produced  throughout  the  whole  a 
spirit  of  neglect,  abuse,  plunder,  and  intrigue  in  the 
public  business,  which  it  has  been  impossible  for  me  to 

24 


278        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

prevent  or  correct.  ...  I  see  in  every  department 
neglect,  dissipation,  and  private  schemes."  And  in 
almost  every  distinguished  man  who  was  prominent  in 
aiding  our  cause  in  France,  the  pure,  sharp,  argus  eyes 
of  Mr.  Arthur  Lee  saw  onty  a  greed  of  gold,  an  un- 
scrupulous and  dishonest  plot  to  amass  wealth  for 
himself. 

In  1790  there  were  not  wanting  remonstrants  against 
this  over-censoriousness.     Says  one,  June  9,  1790,  — 

"I  wish  the  Americans  were  more  attentive  to  their  duty. 
Not  only  numerous  complaints  are  tittered  against  the  measures 
of  Congress,  but  evil  surmisings  and  predictions.  One  predicts 
they  will  consume  a  long  session,  and  disagree  at  last  about  the 
mode  of  doing  the  business.  ...  A  third  apprehends  it  is  not 
their  intention  to  establish  public  credit,  but  to  waste  one  session 
after  another  in  speculations  and  intrigues  for  their  private  ad- 
vantage. How  irrational  is  all  this  !  Ask  any  one  of  these 
complainers  and  surmisers,  if  he  would  act  so  unwittingly  and 
inconsistent  a  part,  were  he  in  Congress.  He  will  confidently 
answer,  No  !  .  .  .  More  time  having  been  spent  in  national 
arrangements,  and  forming  a  system  for  the  establishment  of 
public  credit  than  some  expected,  they  are  ready  to  draw  the 
worst  conclusions,  suppose  our  representatives  will  quarrel  like 
children,  and  part  without  accomplishing  their  business.  Let  us 
honor  ourselves  too  much  to  believe  it  possible  that  we  can  be  so 
deceived  in  the  men  to  whom  we  have  committed  the  honor  and 
happiness  of  our  country." 

Would  not  this  gentle  rebuke  appty  equally  well 
to-day?      The   complaints   are   the   same.     The  long 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  279 

sessions  of  Congress,  the  failure  to  agree,  private 
greed  instead  of  public  spirit,  prolonged  debate  re- 
garding the  establishment  of  national  credit :  they  are 
the  same  sounds  with  which  our  ears  are  so  familiar. 
We  have  been  harping  on  my  daughter,  and  still  she 
lives.  We  have  not  unsealed  an  El  Dorado,  whose 
waters  have  power  to  quench  disease,  and  give  im- 
mortal youth.  We  have  not  established  an  Utopia, 
where  all  men's  good  is  each  man's  rule.  We  have 
not  reconstructed  the  human  heart,  and  produced  a 
race  without  sinful  tendencies.  We  have  not  levelled 
the  partition-wall  between  rich  and  poor,  or  caused  that 
one  star  should  not  differ  from  another  star  in  glory. 
But  we  have  secured  a  greater  degree  of  personal  lib- 
erty and  self-government  than  the  world  has  hitherto 
seen  in  a  republic  of  vaster  proportions,  and  with 
strength  proven  by  resistance  of  the  severest  shocks. 
Our  working-classes,  the  rank  and  file  of  a  nation, 
suffer  less  from  the  misery  of  povert}-,  have  an  intelli- 
gence more  widely  diffused,  and  a  greater  command  of 
the  decencies,  the  comforts,  and  the  refinements  of  life, 
than  those  of  any  other  country.  We  are  far  behind 
the  optimist's  faith  ;  but  we  are,  also,  far  ahead  of  the 
pessimist's  fear.  The  Old  World,  which  has  not  largely 
dealt  in  an  absolutely  free  criticism  of  the  governor 
by  the  governed,  may  be  a  little  misled  by  seeing  our 
secret  sins  set  forth  with  an  almost  exaggerated  frank- 


280         SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

ness  in  the  columns  of  the  newspapers.  But,  surety, 
Americans  who  have  been  familiar  from  their  3-outh 
up  with  a  freedom  of  the  press  Avhich  often  lapses  into 
license,  and  which  is  subject  to  scarce  any  other  than 
the  natural  laws  of  repression  and  re-action,  the}-,  cer- 
tainty, ought  not  to  be  deceived  b}r  any  abandonment 
of  self-accusation.  One  might  just  as  reasonably 
charge  the  clergy  with  crime  and  corruption,  because 
Henry  Martyn  and  David  Brainerd  indulged  in  a  fervor 
of  self-abasement.  Mr.  Martyn  and  Mr.  Brainerd, 
and  a  great  cloud  of  newspaper  witnesses,  use  lan- 
guage which  strictly  belongs  only  to  an  estate  of 
great  sin  and  misery ;  but  probably  none  would  be 
more  surprised  than  themselves  to  find  that  this  lan- 
guage was  not  apprehended  in  a  Pickwickian  sense. 
If  our  literary  and  learned  men  would  give  themselves 
to  teaching  us  the  accurate  use  of  words,  the  awful 
force  of  language,  the  natural  affinities  of  thought  and 
terms,  the  wickedness  of  divorcing  an  idea  from  its 
expression,  of  filling  a  word  with  a  meaning  that  does 
not  belong  to  it,  of  transforming  a  suspicion  into  a 
fact,  a  conjecture  into  an  assertion,  an  incident  into  an 
event,  an  accident  into  a  trait,  gossip  into  history,  — 
thejr  would  do  a  good  service  to  the  cause  of  truth,  of 
patriotism,  and  of  morality,  for  which  we  should  all 
have  reason  to  be  grateful. 

One  of  the  greatest  safeguards  of  popular  government 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  281 

is  popular  criticism ;  and  popular  criticism  is  valuable 
in  proportion  as  it  is  discriminating,  intelligent,  and 
just,  not  in  proportion  as  it  is  censorious  or  laudatory. 
No  easier  way  of  being  patriotic  offers  itself  than  to 
deciy  the  methods,  motives,  and  acts  of  those  who  are 
conducting  the  affairs  of  the  county.  There  is,  and 
there  always  will  be,  sufficient  material  for  censure ; 
but  ill-directed  censure,  general  denunciation,  indefinite 
sneers,  are  of  very  little  use  in  reforming.  If  the  object 
of  censure  be  not  to  exhibit  one's  own  superior  stand- 
ard, but  to  improve  and  purify,  it  should  be  pointed, 
accurate,  and  sure.  At  the  basis  of  all  sound  and 
useful  criticism  is  knowledge.  Some  knowledge  is 
hard  to  be  got  at,  and  some  would  seem  to  be  easy  of 
access ;  yet  much  resounding  censure  is  apparently 
founded  on  an  entire  absence  of  both  kinds. 

With  every  recurring  close  of  the  sessions  of  Con- 
gress, the  custodian  of  public  virtue  is  shocked  by 
the  accumulated  legislation  of  the  few  last  weeks  of 
Congress.  All  the  early  weeks,  he  severely  declares, 
are  wasted  in  useless  debate  ;  and  all  the  real  work  is 
crammed  into  the  closing  portion.  It  is  the  hot 
weather,  it  is  the  approaching  adjournment,  which 
makes  members  sensible.  They  dawdle  at  the  begin- 
ning, and  in  the  end  rush  bills  through  with  reckless 
haste. 

But  an  observer  who  looks  at  things  themselves, 
24* 


282        SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

and  not  at  the  mere  rumor  and  surface  of  things, 
would  see  that  a  great  part  of  the  work  of  legislation 
is  done  in  committee.  Not  in  the  great  halls  of  the 
house  or  the  senate,  but  in  the  small  committee- 
rooms,  bills  are  matured.  Each  bill  is  there  discussed 
by  a  few  men  selected  to  represent  the  opinion  of  the 
whole  bod}7,  —  selected  hy  election  in  the  senate,  by 
appointment  of  the  speaker  in  the  house.  Yet  the 
speaker  is  bound  in  his  appointments  to  represent  not 
his  own  opinions,  but  the  opinions  of  the  house. 
These  committees  have  each  its  own  room,  where  bills 
are  discussed  with  entire  freedom,  and  often  at  great 
length.  It  naturally  happens  that  the  bulk  of  these 
bills  are  ready  to  be  reported  at  about  the  same  time. 
When  the  bills  are  matured  for  presentation,  Congress 
can  appoint  a  time  for  adjournment.  That  is,  the 
pressure  of  business  does  not  come  because  adjournment 
is  fixed  ;  but  adjournment  can  be  fixed  because  business 
is  now  all  ready  to  press.  During  the  early  weeks  of 
the  session,  the  fifty  committees  were  laboring  in  their 
committee-rooms  to  reconcile  opposing  opinions  and 
clashing  interests,  and  present  measures  which  should 
be  likely  to  receive  the  assent  of  the  whole  body. 
During  the  later  weeks  of  the  session,  the  same  fifty 
committees  are  striving  to  bring  forward  the  various 
bills,  one  after  another,  in  as  rapid  succession  as  may 
be.     Is  it  strictly  intelligent  to  say  that  the  processes 


THE  LAND  OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  283 

are  useless,  the  results  alone  are  work?  Many  bills 
are  of  such  a  character  as  not  to  enlist  universal 
interest.  Many  men  trust  in  these  matters  to  the 
judgment  and  honor  of  the  committee  that  has  them 
in  charge,  or  to  the  vote  of  other  well-known  men ; 
and  these  bills  pass  without  debate,  that  is,  are 
"rushed  through."  Sometimes  this  confidence  is 
misplaced  :  a  bad  bill  is  passed,  and  mischievous  legis- 
lation is  the  result.  But,  in  a  vast  majority  of  cases, 
confidence  is  not  misplaced.  Of  this  vast  majority 
we  hear  nothing ;"  but  the  mischievous  bill  that  slips 
through  makes  a  great  outcry,  as  is  natural  and 
proper:  and  this  is  the  safeguard.  This  occasional 
passage  of  a  bad  bill  is  a  reason  why  people  should 
be  vigilant :  it  is  not  a  reason  wiry  they  should  be 
despondent,  least  of  all  why  they  should  be  denuncia- 
tory of  our  institutions.  In  any  case,  it  is  simply 
impossible  that  one  man  should  be  able  to  acquaint 
himself  thoroughly,  by  personal  investigation,  with 
the  merits  of  every  bill  brought  forward.  The  ambi- 
tion to  do  it  is  worse  than  idle.  The  man  who  under- 
takes to  know  every  thing  in  Congress  is  good  for 
nothing,  —  a  failure  and  a  nuisance.  The  most  valu- 
able members  are  those  who  have  a  spccialt}-,  and 
are  authority  on  that  point.  It  is"  on  this  principle 
that  business  is  conducted,  and  fame  acquired,  in  the 
English  house  of  commons.     More  and  more,  as  our 


284  SERMONS   TO   THE  CLERGY. 

country  increases,  will  congressional  business  be  done 
in  committee.  That  way,  danger  lies.  Danger  lies, 
also,  in  the  direction  of  too  much  legislation.  It 
behooves  all  good  citizens  to  be  on  the  alert.  But 
it  behooves  them,  also,  to  sight  their  game  before  they 
fire.  Random  shooting  may  startle  ;  but  it  is  likely  to 
do  quite  as  much  harm  as  good.  Probably  there  is 
about  as  much  censurable  delay  of  business  from  the 
earlier  to  the  later  weeks  of  the  session  as  there  is  a 
censurable  delay  of  sermons  from  the  earlier  to  the 
later  hours  of  the  week. 

Much  debate  is  characterized  as  useless  on  question- 
able grounds.  What  is  a  mere  truism  to  the  compre- 
hension of  the  critic  may  be  matter  of  doubt  to  the 
inferior  intellect  of  the  congressman,  and  even  of  his 
constituent.  It  is  not  enough  for  the  "  hard  mone}^" 
man  to  know  that  a  specie  basis  is  best :  he  must  get 
the  "  paper  money  "  man  to  believe  it  also.  It  is  not 
enough  for  the  Granger  to  know  that  the  cost  of 
transportation  is  too  high :  he  must  put  the  railroad 
man  under  conviction  of  sin.  Whatever  is  of  broad 
and  vital  interest  is  not  likety  to  be  passed  in  the 
house  without  prolonged  and  even  heated  debate,  no 
matter  how  closely  it  may  have  been  discussed  in 
committee.  Religious  papers  may  well  quarrel  with 
Congress  here.  They  "know  a  trick  worth  two" 
of  these   national   debates.       A  minister  preaches  a 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  285 

sermon  through,  and  lets  no  dog  bark.  We  may 
think  he  has  left  out  a  fact  or  two  in  his  argument  on 
the  atonement ;  that  there  is  a  flaw  in  his  reasoning 
on  original  sin,  a  cloud  in  his  definition  of  the 
doctrine  of  substitution ;  but  the  good  minister  has 
put  us  under  such  training,  that  we  dare  not  open  our 
lips,  and  he  has  it  all  his  own  way.  How  long  would 
a  sermon  last,  if,  every  time  the  Congregational,  Evan- 
gelical preacher  struck  a  snag,  Brother  Charles  K. 
Whipple,  and  Brother  Voysey,  and  Brother  Bishop 
Potter,  and  Brother  Fulton,  and  Brother  Abbott,  and 
Brother  Patton  should  rise  and  say,  "  Will  the  gentle- 
man allow  me  to  ask  a  single  question ?"  "Will  the 
gentleman  permit  me  to  interrupt  him  a  moment?  " 
"  Will  the  gentleman  grant  me  a  few  minutes  of  his 
time  to  correct  a  statement  of  fact?"  "Will  the 
gentleman  kindly  repeat  his  last  assertion?" — if,  in 
short,  he  were  surrounded  by  eager  antagonists  ready 
to  claw  and  clutch  at  every  lapse  from  logic,  and  every 
weak  statement  or  forced  inference?  Let  me  not  be 
arraigned  for  a  mover  of  sedition ;  but  I  sometimes 
think  when  I  hear,  as  I  sometimes  do  hear,  a  good 
man  plodding  serenely  onward  in  the  pulpit,  assuming 
his  premises,  begging  his  questions ,  confounding  his 
terms,  mistaking  assertions  for  conclusions,  and 
upsetting  his  dish  generally,  that  it  might  not  be 
wholly  insalubrious  to  have  a  little  "useless  debate" 


286  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

introduced  into  the  churches.  When  I  read  in  the 
Confession  of  Faith  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  that 
"  elect  infants,  dying  in  Infancy,  are  regenerated  and 
saved  by  Christ,  .  .  .  others,  not  elected,  .  .  . 
never  truly  come  to  Christ,  and  therefore  cannot  be 
saved,"  I  think  I  should  like  to  see  that  poor  little 
non-elect  infant  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  debate  in  the 
house  of  representatives. 

The  reservoir  of  political  corruption  at  Washington, 
built  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  Williamsburg  flood,  is  an 
illustration  of  the  directness  and  logic  of  our  censure. 
All  investigation  points  to  bad  work,  ill  faith,  as  the 
cause  of  that  disaster.  The  dam  was  not  built  accord- 
ing to  specifications  ;  and  the  specifications  themselves 
fell  below  the  safety  mark.  The  foundation-wall 
should  have  been  laid  three  feet  below  the  surface,  and 
it  was  laid  on  the  surface.  It  was  not  properly  secured 
at  the  ends,  and  was  not  thick  enough  anywhere.  The 
moral  that  sticks  up  everywhere  out  of  the  wreck  is  a 
reform  in  home-manufactures,  the  necessity  of  more 
scientific,  conscientious,  thorough  work.  If  any  politi- 
cal moral  be  deducible,  it  is,  How  can  we  expect 
honest}'  in  our  representatives,  when  our  own  citizens, 
the  solid  men  of  Massachusetts,  church-members  and 
property-holders,  are  so  corrupt  and  reckless,  that,  to 
save  a  few  hundreds  of  dollars  to  their  own  pockets, 
they  will  wreck  millions  of  their  neighbors',  destroy 


THE  LAND   OF  BROKEN  PROMISE.  287 

scores  of  human  lives,  and  spread  desolation  through 
hundreds  of  homes? 

Instead  of  which,  Massachusetts  —  the  dear  old  sly- 
boots—  turns  her  Mill  River  on  to  Washington,  where 
its  pure  water  becomes  "  a  great  volume  of  political 
corruption,  which  at  any  moment  may  deluge  the  broad 
land  with  distress,"  but  which,  we  must  infer,  if  kept 
well  dammed  up,  and  only  let  out  as  it  is  wanted,  is  a 
legitimate  source  of  wealth  and  power.  However,  let 
us  not  miss  any  opportunity  of  ' '  letting  drive ' '  at 
Washington.  Where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way ; 
and  he  who  supposes  that  wa}r  is  to  be  blocked  up 
by  any  thing  so  trivial  as  a  flimsy  Massachusetts 
dam  has  little  idea  of  the  fervor  of  our  patriotism. 

Another  moral  drawn  from  the  same  disaster  is  the 
"  sure  consequences  of  the  American  habit  of  shiftless- 
ness,  of  running  for  luck,  of  trusting  that  the  bridge 
Will  stand  for  this  strain. ' '  But  why  American  ?  Is 
America  the  onl}T  countn-  whose  dams  give  way?  In 
March,  1864,  the  dam  of  the  reservoir  near  Sheffield, 
in  England,  was  broken  down ;  and  a  body  of  water 
covering  sevent}--six  acres  of  ground  rushed  down  the 
gorge  of  the  hills,  and  swept  away  two  hundred  and 
fifty  human  beings  and  a  vast  amount  of  property. 
In  1802  a  dam  gave  way  in  Spain ;  and  six  hundred 
and  eight  people  were  drowned. 


288         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

Remembering  Mr.  Plimsoll,  shall  we  not  believe  that 
ignorance  and  recklessness  and  total  depravity  are 
traits  of  human  rather  than  American,  or  English,  or 
Spanish  nature  ? 

"  Peccavimus,  but  rave  not  thus." 


MISSIONAEY  MUSINGS. 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS. 

|HE  idea  is  somewhat  prevalent,  that,  while 
our  own  churches  must  have  ability,  a  good 
disposition  is  the  one  thing  needful  in  a 
missionary.  We  want  the  first  choice  ourselves. 
What  is  left  is  good  enough  for  the  heathen.  But  this 
notion  has  been  supposed  to  be  confined  to  the  un- 
learned and  unthinking.  He  who  has  an  adequate 
idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  work  undertaken  in 
christianizing  the  world  must,  apparently,  admit  that 
the  greatest  sagacity,  as  well  as  the  greatest  piety,  is 
required  in  those  who  are  to  be  its  immediate  agents. 

But  it  seems  otherwise  to  the  gods  who  preside  over 
some  of  our  missionary  boards.  The  printed  commis- 
sion used  by  a  certain  board  in  appointing  missiona- 
ries declares  that  "this  appointment  is  made  on 
condition  that  the  appointee  shall  agree,  without  reser- 
vation, to  the  following  stipulations  ;  namely,  — 

"  1.  To  become  a  missionary  for  life." 

This  seems  a  little  like  a  blow  in  the  face,  to  begin 
with.     Are  missionaries,  then,  a  separate  ecclesiastical 

291 


292  SER3I0NS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

order,  or  do  the}7  belong  to  the  same  guild  as  other 
ministers?  Do  the  ministers  of  an}-  Protestant  de- 
nomination take  upon  themselves  vows  of  perpetual 
obligation?  If  a  countr}T  clerg}*man,  after  ten  or 
twenty  3^ears  of  preaching,  finds  his  throat  giving  out, 
he  retires  from  the  pulpit,  and  turns  stock-broker.  If 
he  contracts  a  distaste  for  his  work,  or  grows  tired  in 
or  of  it,  or  thinks  he  would  like  something  else  better, 
or  accomplish  more  good  in  other  occupations,  he 
enters  a  newspaper  office,  or  becomes  secretary  of  a 
charitable  society,  or  commissioner  of  jails,  or  a  furni- 
ture-dealer, or  (such  things  have  been  known)  he  buys 
a  snug  little  house,  and  lives  on  the  interest  of  his 
mone}^.  Is  there  a  single  Protestant  denomination 
that  forbids  it?  Has  the  missionary  an  inferior  rank, 
that  he  cannot  be  allowed  the  same  libert}'  ? 

Probably  the  stipulation  is  made  with  the  praise- 
worthy purpose  of  preventing  a  waste  of  the  money  of 
the  churches.  The  minister  pays  his  own  preparatory 
expenses.  The  missionary  is  sent  by  the  Board ;  and 
it  would  not  be  economical  to  furnish  him  with  an  out- 
fit for  a  short  term.  But  to  make  him  serve  an 
apprenticeship  for  life  in  order  to  defray  the  expense  of 
one  journe}r  is  rating  him  at  a  low  figure.  Our  National 
Government  sends  the  }Toung  man  through  West 
Point,  and  demands  only  an  eight-years'  service  in 
return.     Is  not  a  missionary  of  more  value  than  many 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  293 

cadets  ?  And  what  is  the  attitude  of  the  missionary 
toward  the  home  churches  ?  Is  he  the  dependent  upon 
or  the  almoner  of  their  bounty  ?  Is  he  an  office-seeker, 
clamorous  for  outfit  and  salary,  to  whom  the  keepers- 
at-home  ma}*  say  patronizingly,  "  Yes,  we  will  give 
you  the  place  you  want,  on  condition  that  you  stay 
there  the  rest  of  your  life,  and  never  let  us  have  to 
provide  for  you  again,"  or  is  he  a  man  whom  the 
office  seeks,  whom  the  place  craves,  who  earns  his 
salary,  who  does  not  barter  away  his  right  of  self- 
direction,  who  is  the  peer  of  his  appointers,  and  may 
be  presumed  to  have  sufficient  character,  ambition,  and 
philanthropy  to  know  when  to  retire  with  honor? 
Gen.  Schenck,  Mr.  Washburne,  Mr.  Bancroft,  are 
fitted  out  by  government,  and  can  resign  and  return 
the  moment  they  touch  a  foreign  port  if  the}*  choose. 
Have  the  ministers  of  religion  less  interest  in  their 
work,  less  perception  of  the  fitness  of  things,  less 
regard  for  their  good  name,  than  the  minister  of 
politics  ?  Must  they  be  bound  by  an  oath,  lest  they 
run  away  from  their  stations  ?  What  does  it  say  of 
missionaries  and  missionary  work,  if  only  a  contract 
can  keep  them  at  it  ?  There  are  many  offices  to  which 
men  are  appointed  for  life  ;  but  I  know  none  to  which 
the}*  are  forced  to  adhere  for  life.  This  missionary 
board  has  so  poor  an  opinion  of  its  appointees,  and 
the  work  which  it  assigns  them,  that  it  binds  them  to 

25» 


294  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

it  by  extraordinary  and  unusual  ties,  and  imposes  upon 
them  restraints  and  engagements  to  which  no  class  of 
ministers  at  home  are  called  upon  to  submit,  and  to 
which,  it  may  be  presumed,  they  would  not  submit  if 
they  were  called. 

The  appointee  agrees  :  — 

"3.  To  go  out  deeply  imbued  with  the  love  of 
Christ  and  of  souls ;  profoundly  impressed  with  the 
danger,  the  folly,  and  the  guilt  of  men  in  heathendom  ; 
fully  sensible  of  his  call  from  God  to  preach  the 
gospel ;  a  hearty  acceptance  of  the  doctrines  and 
discipline  of  the  [apostolic]  Church,  and  well  affected 
toward  its  authorities  ;  a  profound  sense  of  his  con- 
stant dependence  on  divine  grace  to  qualify  him  for 
the  great  work  to  which  he  devotes  himself,  and  fully 
determined  to  labor  in  harmony  with  his  brethren,  to 
avoid  all  causes  of  irritation,  to  discourage  all  factions 
and  strifes  in  the  mission,  and  all  attempts  to  weaken 
the  bonds  between  it  and  the  Church  at  home." 

If  the  appointee  has  any  ' '  realizing  sense ' '  of 
Lindley  Murray,  he  must  go  out  deeply  imbued  with 
the  grammar  of  the  appointing  power,  and  profoundly 
impressed  with  the  ignorance  and  the  folly,  if  not  the 
guilt,  of  men  out  of  heathendom.  The  heathen,  the 
Deity,  and  the  [apostolic]  Church,  autocratic  bishops, 
and  quarrelsome  brethren,  are  mingled  indiscriminately 
in  the  draught  which  is  commended  to  his  lips.     Noth- 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  295 

ing  human  or  divine  is  foreign  to  his  contract.  It  is 
not  enough  that  he  is  called  upon  to  promise,  that,  at 
some  future  time,  he  will  be  deeply  imbued  with  certain 
sentiments,  and  profoundly  impressed  with  certain 
facts :  he  is  required  to  become  responsible  for  the 
divine  Being.  The  Board  is  not  content  to  take  his 
view  of  the  case ;  but  it  forces  him  to  go  up  into  the 
heaven  of  heavens,  and  tell  us  the  precise  part  which 
the  Most  High  took  in  the  arrangement.  But  can  the 
divine  acts  be  the  subjects  of  human  testimon3T? 
When  a  man  saj^s  he  is  fully  sensible  of  his  call  from 
God  to  preach  the  gospel,  do  we  know  any  more  about 
it  than  we  knew  before  ?  It  was  a  great  victory  in  the 
old  witchcraft  trials  when  spectral  evidence  was  ruled 
out  of  court  as  inadmissible ;  but  it  was  no  more  in- 
tangible than  the  evidence  which  modern  man  can  offer 
of  God's  plans  and  purposes.  If  the  [apostolic]  Church 
believes,  with  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  that  the  age 
of  miracles  is  not  past,  that  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius 
still  reddens  and  bubbles  before  the  eyes  of  the  awe- 
struck people,  and  the  bread  of  the  sacramental  table 
becomes  the  body  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  if  God 
still  appears  to  men  in  dreams  and  visions  to  reveal 
his  will,  —  then  it  may  be  that  a  man  becomes  fully 
sensible  of  his  call  from  God  to -preach  the  gospel. 
But  if  with  the  revelation  to  St.  John  the  divine 
ceased  the  special  revelation  of  God  to  man,  a  mis- 


296        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

sionary  has  no  other  way  of  being  sensible  of  his  call 
from  God  to  preach  the  gospel  than  the   dressmaker 
has   of  her  call   from   God  to   make   gowns,    or   the 
dentist  his  call  from  God  to  fill  teeth.     We  can  judge 
of  what  God  calls  us  to  do  only  from  the  human  side  : 
the  missionary,  like  the  rest  of  us,  must  use  his  own 
judgment  in  deciding  where  to  go.     Reason  tells  every 
one  to  do  the  work  for  which  his  character,  abilities, 
and  circumstances  best  fit  him.     One  man  is  born  to 
the  purple,  and  one  to  be  hewer  of  wood,  and  drawer 
of  water.     If  the  purple  and  fine  linen  are  trailed  in 
the  dust  of  defeat  and  disaster  and  degradation ;    if 
the  hewer  of  wood  passes  with  swinging,  steady  step 
from  his  native  forests  to  the  forefront  of  battle  and 
a  nation's  highest  place,  —  what  is  it  but  the  call  of 
God  ?     God  calls  us  through  ability.     How  can  a  man 
know  his   ability  till  it  is  tested?     Doubtless   many 
a    minister,  and    perhaps    many   a    missionary,   has 
entered  conscientiously  upon  his  work,  and  led  a  life 
of  disappointment,  discontent,  and  failure,  from  sim- 
ple error  of  choice.     I  have  heard  ministers  lament, 
that,  under  stress  of  parental  influence  or  temporary 
excitement,  they  adopted  their  profession,  exerted  but 
half  their  powers,  and  achieved  but  partial  success ; 
while  all  their  tastes  led  them  in  another  direction,  and 
all  their  faculties  fitted  them  for  another  sphere :  but, 
at  the  time  the  choice  was  made,  they  would  have  had 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  297 

no  hesitation  in  avowing  themselves  fully  sensible  of 
their  call  from  God.  Really  the  call  was  from  their 
parents  or  their  emotions :  their  mature  judgment 
could  attribute  it  to  no  higher  source. 

But  while  the  Board  exalts  its  missionaries  to  the 
throne  of  God  with  one  hand,  with  the  other  it  keeps 
the  balance  true  by  thrusting  them  down  far  below 
those  who  remain  at  home.  It  demands  that  the  mis- 
sionary shall  agree,  fourthly,  "to  observe  and  keep 
the  rules  and  regulations  both  of  the  Discipline  and 
the  Missionary  Manual  in  their  present  form,  or  as 
they  ma}T  from  time  to  time  be  changed  hereafter  ;  and 
also  to  be  governed  and  guided  by  the  general  commit- 
tee and  board  of  managers  of  the  Missionary  Society 
of  the  [Infallible  Apostolic]  Church,  and  by  the 
bishop  having  charge  of  the  missions,  giving  due  heed 
to  the  instructions  and  suggestions  which  they  from 
time  to  time  may  send  in  regard  to  plans  and  opera- 
tions.' ' 

"A  man  I  know, 
But  shall  not  discover," 

is  wont  to  terminate  all  discussion  on  female  suffrage 
with  the  terse  and  intelligible  declaration,  "  Madam, 
the  end  of  the  matter  is  this  :  we  have  got  you  down, 
and  we  mean  to  keep  30U  down."  Very  much  of  this 
sort  seems  the  attitude  of  the  apostolic  Church  toward 


298  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

its  missionary.  They  swear  him  in  for  life,  and  they 
bind  him  to  observe  and  keep,  not  only  the  rules  as  they 
now  exist,  but  as  they  may  from  time  to  time  be  changed 
hereafter.  They  do  not  demand  from  him  a  declara- 
tion of  belief  in  the  infallibility  of  the  Board;  but 
they  demand  a  promise  which  he  ought  not  to  give  un- 
less the  Board  be  infallible.  Of  actual  rules  he  can 
form  a  judgment,  and  such  he  may  intelligently  agree 
to  obey  ;  but  a  rule  which  is  not  made  he  cannot  agree 
to  keep,  except  by  divesting  himself  of  his  manhood, 
and  following  a  Board  as  blindly  as  the  most  bigoted 
Roman  Catholic  follows  the  Pope.  No  matter  how 
preposterous  a  rule  some  subsequent  revolutionary 
Board  may  lay  down,  he  has  bound  himself  beforehand 
to  obey  it,  and  has  not  even  the  alternative  of  resigna- 
tion. No  Romanist  requirement  is  more  unreasonable 
than  this.     He  promises  :  — 

"5.  To  refrain  from  making  known  his  grievances 
in  communicating  with  his  friends,  and  especially  in 
writing  to  newspapers  ;  to  avoid  calling  in  question,  in 
any  public  way,  the  policy,  plans,  or  spirit  of  the  mis- 
sionary administration  at  home,  reserving  his  opinions 
or  complaints  for  the  general  committee,  the  board  of 
managers,  or  the  bishops  having  jurisdiction  severally 
in  the  premises,  according  to  the  nature  of  the 
case." 

[Signed  by  the  bishops."] 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  299 

"With  a  single  exception,  the  good  bishops  have  taken 
every  available  method  of  securing  order  in  Warsaw. 
But  the}T  should  have  made  the  candidate  agree  :  — 

6.  Never  to  put  his  printed  commission  into  his  hat, 
and  especially  never  to  suffer  the  wind  to  blow  hard 
enough  to  blow  his  hat  off,  and  whirl  his  commission 
into  the  hands  of  strangers,  especially  the  newspapers, 
and  thus  prevent  calling  in  question  in  any  public  way 
the  intelligence,  policy,  or  effectiveness  of  the  mission- 
ary administration  at  home. 

This  wise  regulation  was  not  inserted,  though  it  may 
be  one  of  those  future  rules  which  he  has  construc- 
tively agreed  to  observe.  We  have,  therefore,  the 
opportunity  to  remark,  that  the  objection  which  lies 
against  this  commission  is,  that  it  is  founded  on  the 
opposite  of  intelligence.  It  appeals  to  ignorant  and 
undiscriminating  piety  ;  and  in  proportion  as  a  man  is 
wise,  in  proportion  as  he  understands  the  meaning  and 
use  of  words,  the  limits  of  thought  and  obligation,  the 
freedom  and  dignity  of  the  individual,  he  rejects  it,  not 
only  with  decision,  but  with  scorn.  In  direct  ratio  with 
his  fitness  to  be  a  missionary  is  the  impossibility  of  his 
agreeing  to  the  condition  of  becoming  one. 

No  man,  no  committee  of  intelligence,  would  make  it 
incumbent  on  any  one  to  agree  to  support  a  contingent 
discipline.  The  first  reqmremf  nt  of  reason  is  that  the 
mind  shall  clearly  understand  the  articles  to  which  it 


300         SEKMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

subscribes.  The  Board  demands  that  its  servants 
shall  support  an  unstated  proposition,  either  from  a 
lack  of  sufficient  mental  acutencss  to  see  the  absurdi- 
ty of  such  a  thing,  or  from  a  dishonorable  disposition 
to  take  advantage  of  a  similar  presumed  lack  on  the 
part  of  the  candidate.  The  wise  man  refuses  to  be 
thus  blindly  bound.  It  is  only  the  unthinking  who  are 
caught. 

Again:  when  a  man  agrees  to  "report  his  accept- 
ance in  writing  to  the  missionary  secretaries,  and  place 
himself  under  their  direction  as  to  the  time  of  sailing, 
the  mode  of  conveyance,  and  the  preparation  for  the 
voyage,"  he  agrees  to  something  definite,  intelligible, 
practicable.  But  when  he  agrees  "to  go  out  deeply 
imbued  with  the  love  of  Christ  and  of  souls,  profoundly 
impressed  with  the  danger,  the  folly,  and  the  guilt  of 
men  in  heathendom,  fully  sensible  of  his  call  from  God 
to  preach  the  gospel,  and  of  his  constant  dependence 
on  divine  grace  to  qualify  him  for  the  great  work," 
he  agrees  to  he  knows  not  what.  Whose  lead  and  line 
shall  be  used  in  fathoming  his  love,  to  tell  whether  it 
be  deep  or  shallow?  And  suppose  the  party  of  the 
second  part  should  at  some  future  time  affirm  that  the 
party  of  the  first  had  violated  his  contract,  and  was 
not  deeply  imbued,  or  profoundly  impressed,  or  fully 
sensible,  how  is  the  latter  to  prove  or  disprove  it?  He 
makes  a  contract  regarding  possessions  which  are  in- 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  301 

tangible,  immeasurable,  incapable  of  being  made  the 
objects  of  contract.  He  agrees  at  a  certain  future 
time  to  be  in  a  certain  state  of  mind.  The  committee 
stipulates  for  emotions.  The  state  of  mind  may  be  a 
very  proper  one,  and  the  emotions  highly  becoming  to 
the  occasion  ;  but  neither  the  understanding  which  re- 
quires, nor  that  which  subscribes  to,  these  conditions,  is 
of  a  lofty  or  discriminating  order.  The  commission  is 
a  medle}^  of  possibilities  and  impossibilities,  of  divine 
grace  and  human  botch,  of  sentiment  and  steamers. 
The  only  pleasant  feature  of  the  whole  form  is  the  pain- 
ful, scrupulous,  ever-vigilant  care  taken  to  repress 
insurrection,  and  secure  obedience.  Evidently  the  ven- 
erable bishops  have  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  Apparently 
the  heathen  have  not  given  them  half  as  much  trouble 
as  the  brethren.  These  missionaries  must  be  a  restive 
folk.  The  managers  have  but  a  passing  word  upon  the 
perils  of  Pagans  ;  but  they  exhaust  the  resources  of 
ingenuity  in  building  barricades  against  the  machi- 
nations of  the  men  who  are  conspiring  to  convert  them. 
One  word  for  the  gloiy  of  God  is  followed  by  ten  for 
that  of  the  board  of  managers.  It  is  very  well  for  the 
missionaries  and  the  heathen  to  depend  upon  divine 
grace  ;  but  the  bishops  want  it  down  in  black  and 
white.  They  lift  one  eye  to  the  hills  whence  cometh 
their  help ;  but  they  keep  the  other  on  the  valleys,  to 
see  that  no  unruly   brother  take   advantage   of  their 

26 


302  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

devoutness  to  indulge  in  revolt  against  their  dominion. 
In  one  breath,  the  candidate  agrees  that  he  will  be 
imbued  with  the  love  of  Christ ;  in  the  next,  that  he 
will  be  well  affected  toward  the  church  authorities. 
Not  a  religious  plank  is  brought  forward  for  the  plat- 
form, but  this  belabored  Board  is  sure  to  be  bobbing 
behind  it.  Between  the  secretaries  and  the  manuals, 
the  general  committees  and  board  of  managers,  the 
bishops  and  other  clergy,  the  missionary  must  some- 
times be  hard  pushed  to  know  which  king  it  is  to 
whom  he  has  sworn  allegiance. 

And  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  he  cannot  have  the  com- 
fort of  writing  home  to  his  sweetheart  about  it.  If  the 
Board  cannot  prevent  the  formation  of  steam,  it  can,  at 
least,  shut  down  the  valves,  and  prevent  its  escape. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Brown  may  grumble  about  the  stupidity 
of  Secretary  Smith  in  sending  him  around  the  Horn, 
instead  of  across  the  Continent ;  but  he  shall  not  per- 
mit his  grumbling  to  reverberate  in  Isabella's  epistles. 
The  Board  fears  its  missionaries  even  writing  love- 
letters.  Its  model  correspondent  would  be  that  la- 
conic 3*oung  man,  who,  being  commissioned  to  break 
gently  to  distant  parents  the  tidings  of  their  son's 
violent  death,  fulfilled  his  mission  by  writing  :  — 

"Mr.  A. 

"  Dear  Sir,  — A  coyote  has  eaten  your  son's  head  off." 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  303 

In  short,  if  we  were  to  judge  from  this  commission, 
we  should  say  that  the  missionary  force  consisted  of 
two  parties,  —  the  Board  of  Managers,  which  stays  at 
home,  and  whose  work  is  chiefly  and  constantly  a 
fierce  struggle  to  maintain  and  perpetuate  its  own 
supreme  power ;  and  the  missionaries  proper,  who  go 
abroad,  and  whose  chief  industry  is  to  distract  the 
councils,  neutralize  the  action,  and  destroy  the  authori- 
ty, of  the  Board.  He  might,  also,  hazard  the  conjec- 
ture, that,  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone, 
the  heathen  would  be  ground  exceeding  small. 

"  Another  Board  appropriates  a  hundred  dollars  per  child 
toward  their  support  (the  support  of  '  the  children  of  mission- 
aries, who  have  been  left  in  this  country  for  education,  or  who 

have  lost  their  parents  by  death ' ).     Mrs. and  Mrs. 

have  been  appointed  by  the  American  Board  to  look  after  the 
interests  of  these  children.  But  a  further  sum  is  required  to 
meet  their  expenses;  and  we  write  these  lines  with  the  hope 
that  some  among  our  readers  may  be  glad  to  assume  the  cost  of 
boarding  one  child  for  a  year  or  more." 

This  is  beggarj^.  This  makes  our  missionaries  men- 
dicants. This  is  organizing  a  system  with  pauperism 
for  one  of  its  foundation-stones. 

There  ma}^  be  two  opinions  about  the  prudence  and 
wisdom  of  sending  men  out  to  convert  the  Chinese,  the 
Hindoo,  the  Zulus,  to  our  faith ;  there  may  be  two 
opinions  as  to  the  wisdom  of  sending  these  men  out 


304  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

solitary  or  in  families :  but  there  can  be  but  one 
opinion  about  taking  care  of  them  and  their  families 
after  they  are  sent.  We,  a  great  Christian  nation,  un- 
dertake to  convert  a  great  Pagan  nation.  We  select 
men  of  pure  character,  of  fair,  sometimes  of  eminent 
abilities,  and  of  expensive  education.  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  talk  about  the  sacrifices  they  make,  partly 
because  that  always  spoils  a  sacrifice,  and  also  because 
they  probably  make  no  more  than  many  a  man  makes 
in  the  way  of  business.  Still  it  is  true  that  their  life 
forbids  all  hope  of  wealth,  holds  out  very  little  pros- 
pect of  fame,  and  does,  more  or  less,  put  them  outside 
the  pale  of  the  civilization  whereunto  they  were  born. 
It  would  seem,  then,  the  least  that  could  be  required 
of  us,  that  we  should  secure  to  them  a  salary  sufficient 
for  their  support  in  comfort  and  respectability.  If  we 
are  not  able  to  do  that,  we  are  not  able  to  found 
missions.  If  we  are  not  willing  to  do  that,  wre  need 
all  our  missionaries  at  home. 

We  raise  four  or  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  a 
year  to  convert  the  world  to  Christianity.  It  is 
nothing  to  boast  of.  England  raises  about  as  much 
for  her  ro}~al  family.  But,  perhaps,  while  it  very 
fairl}-  represents  the  benevolence  of  the  Church  on  the 
one  side,  it  quite  as  fairly  represents  the  incredulity  of 
the  Church  on  the  other.  If  men  really  believed  that 
the  Brahmins  and  the  Mandarins  were  in  as  imminent 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  305 

danger  of  perishing  without  their  aid,  and  would  be  as 
directly  and  surely  saved  by  their  aid,  as  the  victims 
of  the  Chicago  fire,  they  would,  no  doubt,  be  as  alert 
and  as  helpful  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  But 
though,  with  only  half  a  million  a  3~ear,  it  will  take 
some  considerable  time  thoroughly  to  christianize  the 
world,  it  will  surely  not  diminish  that  time  to  econo- 
mize money  b}'  degrading  missionaries.  That  is  sav- 
ing at  the  spigot  to  lose  at  the  bung.  That  is  bringing 
Paganism  on  a  level  with  Christianity  by  letting  Cbris- 
tianit}^  down.  We  should  consider  any  parish  incon- 
ceivably mean  that  should  pay  its  minister  so  small  a 
salary,  that  he  should  be  obliged  to  put  his  children  up 
at  auction,  to  be  bidden  off  like  the  town's  poor. 
Ministers  in  America  could  not  hold  their  own  for  a 
day,  if  they  should  go  about  in  the  religious  news- 
papers asking  people  to  take  their  children  to  board. 
But  missionaries  are  but  ministers,  who  earn  their  sal- 
aries as  really  as  any  ministers.  The  American  Board 
is  but  the  parish  committee  that  hires  them ;  and  the 
American  public,  the  American  Church,  is  the  parish 
that  employs  and  paj^s  them.  If  we  cannot  raise 
money  enough  to  support  ten  Christian  families,  let  us 
support  nine,  but  let  us  not  send  out  ten,  and  keep 
them  alive  by  working  the  adults,  and  turning  out  the 
children  to  charity.  I  think  it  is  better  for  the 
heathen  to   get  along  with  what  religion   the}'  have, 


306         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and  die  in  their  sins,  such  as  they  are,  and  be  judged 
without  law,  than  it  is  for  freeborn  American  children 
to  be  distrained  from  their  parents,  and  brought  up  by 
charity.  If  the  Chinese  go  to  church  in  a  joss-house, 
thejr  do  no  worse  than  did  their  fathers  before  them  ; 
but  we  were  reared  in  a  sturdy  independence,  and, 
though  pulpit  and  people  jpin  hands  to  make  the  clergy 
into  a  new  order  of  mendicant  friars,  we  cannot 
succeed  in  it  without  serious  deterioration.  If  it  is 
our  duty  to  send  missionaries  to  the  heathen  at  all,  it 
is  our  duty  to  furnish  them  with  the  means  of  living 
comfortably.  If  it  is  best  to  employ  missionaries  with 
families,  it  is  imperative  to  furnish  them  with  means 
sufficient  to  support  their  families  without  appeals  to 
charity.  It  is  just  as  disgraceful  and  demoralizing  for 
the  children  of  a  missionary  to  be  hawked  about  the 
country  in  search  of  homes,  as  it  would  be  for  the  chil- 
dren of  Boston  and  Brooklyn  ministers.  We  shall  not, 
perhaps,  convert  the  heathen ;  but  we  need  not  spoil 
ourselves. 

It  is  not  a  great  while  ago  that  a  missionary  and  his 
wife  (I  might  as  well  say  a  missionary  and  her  hus- 
band) were  in  this  country  for  a  visit.  They  were 
agreeable  and  cultivated  persons ;  but  the  lady  was 
particularly  piquant  and  pleasing.  The  freshness, 
simplicity,  and  grace  of  youth  were  combined  with  the 
wisdom    and    mellowness    of    maturity.     They    were 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  307 

received  with  great  cordiality,  and  entertained  with 
much  hospitality,  by  the  best  people  of  the  country. 
But  I  well  remember  the  horror  which  attended  the 
discovery  that  the  lady  in  question  was  wearing  a 
borrowed  gown.  She  was  visiting  the  great  cities, 
constant^  associating  with  silk  and  satin  and  velvet 
and  fur.  But  said  the  portly  and  handsome  D.D., 
in  spotless  linen  and  faultless  broadcloth,  "  Why,  she 
would  better  wear  a  calico  dress  than  borrow." 

Of  course,  the  horrors  of  a  borrowed  gown  cannot  be 
exaggerated.  But,  O  mi  fili!  let  us  see  }Tou  walking 
into  your  own  pulpit  in  a  blue  farmer' s-frock,  let  us  see 
you  presiding  over  a  conference  in  a  flowered  cotton 
wrapper,  before  fully  accepting  your  dictum  in  this 
matter.  It  is  very  easy  to  tell  other  people  to  be 
brave ;  but  conspicuity  may  be  more  fearful  than 
cannon-balls.  The  pity  of  it  is,  not  that  a  missionary 
should  borrow  a  garment,  but  that  we,  the  home- 
guard,  should  suffer  her  to  be  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  borrowing  a  garment,  or  going  without.  We  send 
a  woman  out  to  the  cannibal  islands  to  lavish  her  youth 
and  health  and  life  on  savages,  while  we  stay  at  home 
and  enjo}r  ourselves ;  and,  when  she  comes  home  for 
a  few  months'  rest  and  refreshment,  she  has  to  borrow 
clothes  in  order  to  make  a  decent  appearance  among 
us.  It  is  we  who  are  heathen.  We  scarcely  mend 
the  matter  by  clubbing  together  in  swift  dismay,  and 


308         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

providing  a  silk  gown  after  the  discovery  is  made. 
That  is  but  a  clumsy  and  unregenerate  charity.  Our 
religion  ought  to  have  taught  us  long  ago,  that  a  black 
silk  dress  should  await  every  missionaiy  wife  the 
moment  she  sets  her  foot  on  the  wharf  of  her  country, 
and  that  not  as  a  charit}7,  but  as  the  least  of  her  legal 
rights.  Not  one  of  us  but  would  rather  take  a  con- 
tract to  supply  the  whole  American  Board  with  silk 
gowns  than  to  settle  down  in  the  South  Sea  ourselves  ; 
and,  if  we  can  compromise  on  a  handsome  outfit  and 
ample  support  for  all  goers  and  comers,  we  ought  to 
consider  ourselves  let  off  very  lightly. 

Have  we  any  right  to  be  let  off  at  all  ?  I  suppose 
there  is  no  question  that  the  work  does  drag  a  little. 
The  debt  this  year  is  somewhat  alarming.  Nor  are 
those  3rears  which  are  free  from  debt  altogether  encour- 
aging. The  treasurer's  report  of  one  such  3'ear  was 
received  with  much  gratification,  and  followed  by  a 
hearty  prayer  of  thanksgiving ;  but  it  was  a  little 
startling  to  find,  later  on,  that,  "  the  sad  reason  why 
the  debt  has  been  reduced  is,  that  persons  enough 
could  not  be  found  to  go  abroad,  so  as  to  require  more 
money.  .  .  .  The  most  pressing  appeals  from  the 
secretaries  and  missionaries  —  the  great  burden  of 
the  meeting,  indeed  —  were  for  more  men  and  women 
to  go  into  the  white  harvest-fields.  It  was  a  piteous 
cry,  almost  a  wailing.,, 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  309 

Of  course,  there  is  no  inconsistency,  and  no  impro- 
priety, in  being  glad  you  are  out  of  debt,  even  though 
the  reason  is  that  you  had  no  chance  to  get  in.  Speak- 
ing after  the  flesh,  one  would  say,  that,  even  had  there 
been  people  wanting  to  go,  it  would  have  been  wiser 
not  to  send  them,  so  long  as  there  was  no  money  to 
do  it  with.  Indeed,  may  we  not  reckon  it  providential 
that  the  lack  of  mone}^  was  so  handsomely  met  by  a 
lack  of  men?  And,  on  the  other  hand,  is  it  so  piteous 
a  thing  that  men  do  not  wish  to  go  ?  In  yet  another 
column  of  the  same  paper,  I  find,  "  In  speaking  of  the 
dangers  which  ma}^  burst  upon  our  brethren  in  China, 
at  any  moment,  Mr.  Goodrich  said,  '  No  man  ought 
to  engage  in  the  missionary  work  who  is  not  willing 
to  be  a  martyr.'  As  we  looked  over  the  vast  assem- 
blage of  noble-looking  men  and  women  who  listened 
so  attentively  to  his  thrilling  words,  we  wondered 
how  it  would  be,  were  all  of  them  filled  with  the 
martyr's  spirit.  .  .  .  We  felt  sure  the  speaker  had 
faced  in  sober  thought  the  possibilities  of  martyrdom." 

Now,  I  must  confess,  in  commonplace  honesty,  that 
there  was,  at  least,  one  of  those  noble-looking  men  and 
women  who  did  not  feel  filled  with  the  martyr  spirit, 
and  who  did  not  see  any  reason  why  the  rest  should. 
When  duty  and  danger  front  a  man,  he  is  a  coward  to 
shirk  them ;  but  is  it  a  duty  to  go  around  to  the  other 
side  of  the  world  to  court  clanger  ?    When  the  Chinese 


310  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

come  to  our  country,  we  ought  to  protect  them  in  life, 
libert3T,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  at  all  costs. 
There  is  a  clear  case  for  the  martyr  spirit  to  have  free 
course,  run  (forward,  not  backward),  and  be  glorified. 
But  to  sail  twelve  thousand  miles  away  from  our  own 
country,  to  thrust  ourselves  into  a  kingdom  that  does 
not  want  us,  and  tells  us  so  at  the  cannon's  mouth, 
seems  to  me,  like  swearing, 

"Neither  brave,  polite,  nor  wise." 

"  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel 
to  every  creature,"  sure  enough.  But,  when  Christ 
was  sending  out  his  first  missionaries,  he  bade  them 
expressly,  not  to  go  to  China  and  Japan  and  Mi- 
cronesia, but  to  New  York  and  Boston  and  Lowell. 
"  Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles,  and  into  any 
city  of  the  Samaritans  enter  ye  not.  But  go,  rather, 
to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel."  If  the 
heathen  did  not  want  the  gospel,  he  did  not  bid  his 
disciples  to  force  it  upon  them :  he  did  not  bid  them 
stay,  and  be  martyrs,  but  enjoined  upon  them  to  come 
away.  Offer  the  gospel,  but  remember  that  it  is  for 
them  to  take  or  to  leave.  A  man  shall  not  be  forced, 
even  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  "  Whosoever  shall 
not  receive  \~ou,  nor  hear  your  words,  when  ye 
depart  out  of  that  city,  shake  off  the  dust  of  your  feet. 
.  .  .  When  they  persecute  you  in  this  city,  flee  ye 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  '    311 

into  another."  Surely,  the  Bible  is  not  all  martyrdom. 
There  is  room  left  for  the  exercise  of  prudence  and 
reason.  Can  the  fields  be  considered  ripe  for  the 
harvest,  so  long  as  they  bristle  with  guns?  While 
broad  lands  are  lying  opposite  our  own  doors,  into 
which  we  ma}^  enter  unopposed,  and  wherein  we  may 
work  unmolested,  is  it  necessary  to  traverse  half  the 
globe  to  dash  our  life  out  against  the  Chinese  Wall  ? 
The  Chinese  soul  is  worth  as  much  to  the  Creator  as 
the  American  soul ;  but  the  American  soul  is  also 
worth  as  much  to  the  Creator  as  the  Chinese  soul ;  and 
to  the  American  nation  it  is  worth  a  great  deal  more  ; 
and  is,  moreover,  easier  to  get  at.  If  we  want  an 
alien  race  to  work  on,  here  it  is,  ready  to  our  hand. 
The  paper  from  which  I  have  quoted  says,  "  There 
are  thirteen  thousand  Dakota  Indians  now  under 
missionary  influence.  But,  besides  these,  there  are, 
outside  and  beyond  the  limits  of  our  own  stations, 
mairy  thousands  more,  who,  as  a  young  missionary 
said,  are  '  as  wild  as  an}*-  Texan  cattle.'  "  But  these 
wild  Texan  cattle  are  our  own  countrymen.  The}T 
meet  us  at  every  point.  It  is  a  matter  of  life  and 
death.  And  to  this  day  we  know  no  more  what  to  do 
with  the  Indians  than  did  Columbus.  We  preach  to 
them  a  little,  and  we  plunder  them  a  little ;  we  feast 
them,  and  fight  them ;  and  a  good  many  of  us  have 
more  faith  in  the  fighting  than  in  the  feasting.     We 


312         SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

have  been  a  Christian  nation  ever  since  we  have  had 
any  thing  to  do  with  them  ;  but  we  have  not  converted 
them  to  any  great,  certainly  not  to  any  national, 
extent ;  and  I  presume  that  the  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tion we  entertain  concerning  them,  is,  that  the}T  will 
die  out  of  our  way.  If  we  are  so  powerless  for  good 
to  an  alien  race  over  which  we  have  complete  control, 
and  to  which  we  have,  of  course,  free  entrance,  are  we 
called  upon  to  be  martyrs  to  a  race  that  is  an  inde- 
pendent power,  and  exercises  its  independence  by 
shutting  the  door  in  our  faces  ? 

The  same  paper  saj^s,  that,  "  in  speaking  of  his  late 
field  of  labor  at  Cheyenne,  Col.  Davis,  who  now  goes 
as  a  missionary  to  Japan,  said  that  town  had  been 
termed  *  hell  on  wheels.'  And  it  was  a  significant  fact 
that  women  vote  and  hold  office  there ;  an  allusion 
which  produced  a  broad  grin  and  hearty  laughter  all 
over  the  house.  In  going  there,  he  also  remarked  that 
he  had  in  mind  the  story  of  the  negro  who  advised  his 
master  to  go  where  there  was  '  the  least  pay  and  the 
most  devil.' " 

Why,  then,  does  he  leave  Chej^enne?  Wiry  do  we 
leave  a  ' '  hell  on  wheels ' '  in  the  midst  of  our  own  coun- 
try, and  sail  off  to  Japan  ?  Has  Cheyenne  been  turned 
into  heaven,  or  even  into  a  civilized  and  christianized 
town  on  earth?  Or  have  we  there  as  man}'  ministers, 
and  as  much  machinery,  as  can  be  profitably  employed  ? 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  313 

"  The  Rev.  John  T.  Gulick  will  henceforth  devote 
himself  to  work  among  the  Mongolians.  He  has  found 
them  a  cordial,  hospitable  people,  living  under  a  patri- 
archal government.  They  are  ready  to  welcome  the 
Christian  teacher.  Is  there  any  one  to  go  with  him  to 
that  land?" 

Why,  indeed,  should  there  be?  With  what  face 
could  we  leave  a  "  hell  on  wheels  "  driving  about  here, 
and  set  up  to  reform  a  nice,  hospitable,  patriarchal 
people  like  these  Mongolians?  Is  it  economical  or 
patriotic,  is  it  even  right,  to  send  our  best  men  from 
home,  while  there  is  so  little  pa}'  and  so  much  devil  at 
home?  Among  those  on  the  platform  at  the  meet- 
ing, says  a  religious  paper,  "  certainly  two  were 
young  pastors,  who,  with  their  wives,  gladly  go  to  the 
heathen,  out  of  the  midst  of  homes  and  parishes  where 
they  have  been  delightfully  settled  for  two  or  more 
years.  The  Macedonian  call  moved  them.  Besides 
these,  ...  we  met  others  on  that  platform  at  the 
same  time,  agitated  and  agitating  the  question,  each 
for  himself  or  herself,  '  Am  I  not  called  to  go  ? ' ' ' 

What  is  the  Macedonian  call  ?  If  it  is  the  wicked- 
ness of  heathendom  that  draws  them,  here  is  heathen- 
dom nourishing  like  a  green  ba}r-tree  ^>y  our  own  door- 
way. If  it  is  the  pastoral  simplicity  and  winsome 
docility  of  the  Asiatics,  let  us  not  tamper  with  them. 

For  a  few  years,  Japan  has  been  sending  young  men 

27 


314  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

to  this  country  and  to  Europe  to  be  educated.  When 
more  than  three  hundred  had  been  scattered  through- 
out the  countiy,  the  report  of  some  of  our  highest 
religious  observers,  after  four  years  of  trial,  was,  — 

"  The  Japanese  intellect,  in  the  test  which  has  thus  been  made 
of  it,  has  proved  itself  bright,  clear,  and  discriminating.  .  .  . 

"From  their  first  coming  hither,  it  has  been  very  manifest, 
that  these  boys  have  been  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  a  truly 
polite  and  refined  society.  They  are  neat  in  appearance  and 
dress,  cleanly  in  their  habits,  gentle  and  winning  in  their  inter- 
course with  each  other  and  with  Americans.  But  more  than  this 
has  been  discovered  as  time  has  passed  on.  There  is  a  moral 
rectitude  among  them  which  is  truly  surprising.  There  is  almost 
no  tendency  to  disorder,  profligacy,  and  vice. 

"  Among  the  same  number  of  American  boys  of  similar  age, 
picked  from  any  class  of  society,  whether  sent  abroad  or  kept  at 
home,  no  one  could  hope  to  find  a  style  of  conduct  so  truly 
exemplary.  Pres.  Hopkins  might  well  say,  as  he  did  at  the  late 
meeting  of  the  American  Board  at  New  Haven,  that,  if  all  which 
is  said  of  these  Japanese  students  be  true,  he  could  wish  that 
some  of  them  might  be  kept  as  models  of  conduct  in  our  Ameri- 
can colleges.  As  a  general  fact,  they  are  painstaking  and  labori- 
ous in  their  habits  of  study,  keeping  themselves  closely  to  their 
books  from  morning  till  night;  and  it  is  the  almost  universal 
testimony  in  the  families  where  they  have  lived,  that  they 
have  shown  themselves  quiet  and  agreeable  members  of  the 
household. 

"In  conclusion,  it  may  be  mentioned  as  a  remarkable  fact, 
that  these  young  men  seem  to  be  almost  absolutely  free  from 
what  may  be  called  heathenish  superstition,  and  are  ready  to  re- 
ceive favorably  the  impressions  which  the  Bible  and  our  religious 
institutions  are  fitted  to  make  upon  them.    A  few  have  already 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  315 

professed  Christianity,  and  joined  Christian  churches ;  and  many- 
others  seem  to  he  thoughtfully  pondering  upon  this  subject." 

Is  there  any  thing  in  this  report  that  seems  to 
make  it  imperative  upon  us  to  listen  to  the  call  to 
martyrdom  in  Japan? 

W e  were  sauntering  through  the  pleasant  streets  and 
suburbs  of  North  Adams,  on  a  fine  summer  morning. 
Over  against  one  of  its  little  bridges  stands  the  unpre- 
tending red  brick  factory  -where  our  modern  Sampson 
has  grappled  with  the  problems  of  labor  and  capital, 
of  supply  and  demand,  of  blood  in  its  unity  and  diver- 
sity, —  has  wrestled,  and  seems  thus  far  to  have  pre- 
vailed. We  had,  like  thousands  of  others,  walked 
through  the  quiet,  busy  house,  and  seen  with  our  own 
eyes  the  foreign  faces  and  the  untiring,  skilful  hands. 
The  simple  American  dress  suits  ill  our  ideas  of  Chi- 
nese dignity  and  luxury ;  but  the  long  black  hair, 
braided  and  curled  around  the  head,  somewhat  after 
the  "  Pompadour  "  style,  was  any  thing  but  American ; 
and  the  short,  small  figures,  and  soft,  beardless  faces 
combined  wTith  the  braided  womanly  hair  to  give  an 
appearance  of  effeminacy  to  these  celestial  immigrants. 
But  that  they  were  in  earnest,  their  unceasing  work 
showed.  They  scarcely  looked  up  at  the  approach  of 
visitors ;  and,  if  the}'  observed  us  at  all,  their  coun- 
tenances maintained  a  dignified  and  self-respectful 
unconsciousness.      That  they  are  earnest  and  aspiring 


316  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

is  seen,  also,  from  their  schoolroom,  where  they  are 
mastering  the  new  language  and  the  new  modes  with  a 
rapidity  and  persistence  quite  worthy  of  the  Caucasian 
race,  while  maintaining  still  a  most  tenacious  love  of 
fatherland,  a  close  knowledge  of  its  history,  and  a  fond 
pride  in  its  traditions. 

So,  as  you  stand  leaning  over  the  wooden  railings 
of  the  wooden  bridge,  listening  dreamily  to  the  rush 
of  waters,  and  looking  abstractedly  at  the  common- 
place brick  factory,  3*011  feel  that  this  incursion  from 
the  ancient  world  may  dwindle  into  insignificance,  or 
rise  into  nationality ;  but  all  the  same  the  ancient 
world  is  here.  The  grandeur  and  the  antiquity,  the 
vague,  veiled  splendor,  the  secret,  sacred  learning,  are 
unsealed,  and  the  Celestials  are  making  shoes  in  a 
Yankee  factory. 

We  reckon  these  Chinese  as  heathen  and  publicans, 
to  be  civilized  and  christianized.  But  what  do  they 
think  of  us? 

I  am  sure  that  those  almond  eyes  are  watchful,  and 
theories  are  forming  under  those  black  coronets. 

Two  women  come  chattering  up  the  bridge  ;  and  we 
accost  each  other  in  friendly  country  fashion.  Among 
other  objects  of  interest,  they  point  out  the  Chinese 
factory.  I  love  information  at  first-hand  ;  and  I  ask  if 
our  Asiatic  friends  are  welcome. 

"No,  indeed!"  says  the  portly  matron,  bridling 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  317 

with  indignation.  "  They've  no  business  here !  Every- 
body hates  'em  but  Mr.  Sampson  ;  and  he  worships 
'em  more  than  he  does  his  Maker." 

It  is  a  new  view  of  the  bond  between  employer  and 
workmen. 

"  How  are  they  offensive?  "  I  ask.  "  Do  they  not 
behave  well?  " 

"I  don't  know  but  they  behave  well  enough.  But 
the}-  have  no  business  here  !  " 

"Are  they  riotous,  quarrelsome,  noisy?  Do  they 
rob  hen-roosts  and  clothes-lines  ?  Do  they  mingle  in 
street-fights,  and  stir  up  strife?" 

"  No,  they  are  peaceable  enough.  They  are  afraid 
to  do  any  thing  of  that  kind.  They  are  too  afraid 
themselves.     They  dasn't  do  any  mischief." 

"  Perhaps  the}7  would  behave  well,  even  if  they  were 
not  frightened  into  it.  "We  might,  at  least,  give  them 
the  benefit  of  the  doubt." 

"But  they've  no  business  here.  They  don't  take 
any  part  in  the  government.  They've  no  wives  or 
families.  They  don't  mean  to  stay  here.  They  only 
come  to  get  money,  —  our  money." 

"That  is  an  innocent  object,  if  they  use  innocent 
means  ;  and  we  boast  that  this  is  a  free  country,  open 
to  all.  Perhaps,  if  we  treat  them  fairly,  they  will 
presently  bring  their  families,  and  become  citizens." 

"We  don't  want  any  more  foreigners.  There's 
enough  here  now." 


318         SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

"  But  the  nation  was  originally  founded  by  foreign- 
ers. And  if  the&2  people  are  quiet,  honest,  and  in- 
dustrious, may  they  not  be  a  real  advantage  to  us?  " 

"  No  :  they  don't  spend  any  money.  They  lajT  it  all 
up,  and  live  on  nothin'.  If  there's  a  concert  or  a 
lecture,  Mr.  Sampson  has  'em  all  go,  and  take  the  best 
seats.  You  can't  get  anywhere,  because  he's  got 
mone}',  and  is  just  king." 

"  But  they  pay  for  their  seats?  " 

"Oh,  yes !  they  pay  for  every  thing.  But  I  call 
'em  no  better  than  a  mess  of  hogs." 

Evidently  this  "  mess  of  hogs  "  is  not  wholly  given 
over  to  evil.  While  I  am  writing  this,  I  take  up  a 
chance  volume  of  Goethe,  and  find  him  sa3Ting  to 
Eckermann,"  Since  I  saw  you,  I  have  read  many  and 
various  things,  among  which  a  Chinese  romance  has 
occupied  and  interested  me  most  of  all." 

"Chinese  romance!"  said  I.  "That  is,  indeed, 
something  quite  out  of  the  way." 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  think,"  said  Goethe.  "  The 
Chinamen  think,  act,  and  feel  almost  exactly  like  us ; 
and  we  should  feel  perfect  congenial^  with  them,  if 
all  thej-  do  were  not  more  clear,  more  pure,  and 
decorous  than  with  us.  .   .  . 

"  Then  you  find  an  infinite  number  of  legends,  .  .  . 
all  turning  upon  what  is  moral  and  proper.  'Tis  this 
severe  habit  of   regulation  in  every  thing  which  has 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  319 

* 

sustained  the  Chinese  empire  for  thousands  of  years 
past,  and  will  for  thousands  to  come. 

"I  find  a  remarkable  contrast  to  this  Chinese 
romance  in  the  '  Chansons  de  Beranger,'  which  have, 
almost  every  one,  some  immoral  or  licentious  sub- 
ject. ...  Is  it  not  remarkable  that  the  subjects  of 
the  Chinese  poets  should  be  so  thoroughly  moral,  and 
those  of  the  most  distinguished  French  poet  of  the 
present  day  be  exactly  the  contrary  ?  " 

I  asked  whether  the  Chinese  romance  of  which  he 
spoke  were  one  of  their  best. 

"  By  no  means  !  "  said  Goethe.  "  The  Chinese  have 
thousands  of  them." 

In  our  own  day  and  country,  we  see  that  they  are 
peaceable  and  docile,  eager  to  learn  our  language  and 
our  ways,  and  are  therefore,  of  their  own  accord, 
putting  themselves  into  very  good  training  for  Christi- 
anity ;  while  the  hostility,  the  tumult,  and  the  brick- 
bats are  on  the  American  side.  Would  it  not  be  well 
to  leave  the  Chinese  to  themselves  for  the  present,  and 
to  see  that  Massachusetts  and  California  are  well 
stocked  with  missionaries,  whose  first  duty  shall  be  to 
preach  to  American  citizens  that  the  Chinese  are  not  a 
"  mess  of  hogs  "  ?  If  the  Chinese  are  not  human  beings, 
"  subject  to  like  passions  as  we  are,"  we  waste  money 
in  sending  them  the  gospel :  if  they  are  human  beings, 
it  must  strike  them  strangely  that  we  thrust  ourselves 


320  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

into  their  homes  with  the  Bible,  and  receive  them  in 
our  homes  with  stones.  If  we  cannot  christianize  our 
own  communities  into  a  fellow-feeling  with  the  Chinese, 
what  ground  have  we  for  expecting  to  christianize 
Chinese  communities  into  a  fellow-feeling  with  us? 
We  have  long  counted  Chinese  exclusiveness  and 
seclusiveness  as  a  mark  of  barbarism ;  but  I  cannot 
see  that  China  has  expressed  her  desire  to  be  let  alone 
b}7-  America  in  any  more  emphatic  or  barbarous  manner 
than  America  has  expressed  her  desire  to  be  let  alone 
of  China.  American  missionaries  have  directly  inter- 
fered to  alter  established  Chinese  institutions;  but 
Chinese  immigrants  have  been  only  too  happy  to  con- 
form to  our  laws  and  customs.  They  have  never 
attempted  to  proselyte,  or  even  to  modif}^.  They  have 
simply  and  humbly  sought  to  earn  an  honest  living  by 
supplying  labor  which  we  need,  at  prices  which  we  fix. 
And  they  have  been  met  with  a  ferocity  and  a  brutality 
which  would  do  credit  to  the  darkest  Paganism,  and 
which  ought  to  figure  brilliantly  in  some  Chinese 
"  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs." 

The  situation  is  certainly  peculiar.  We  go  to  great 
expense  in  conveying  a  few  ministers  to  that  human 
hive ;  but  when  the  bees  swarm  on  our  shores,  at 
their  own  expense,  we  beat  one,  and  kill  another,  and 
stone  another,  which  must  seem  a  little  incongruous  to 
the  bees.    I  not  long  since  heard  a  missionary  who  had 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  321 

spent  many  }7ears  in  China  describe  her  disintegration 
and  demoralization,  arising,  in  part  at  least,  from  the 
opium-war  and  sundry  foreign  influences  ;  and  when  I 
asked  him  whether,  on  the  whole,  contact  with  Chris- 
tian nations  had  as  yet  done  China  more  harm  or  good, 
he  answered  promptly  and  emphatically,  "  Harm,  a 
hundred  times !  " 

A  late  writer  tells  us  that  one  of  our  early  Indian 
missionaries  found  a  greater  obstacle  in  the  lawless 
and  immoral  conduct  of  some  of  the  Dutch  than  in 
the  Paganism  of  the  Indians.  How  would  it  do  to 
turn  our  half-million  of  money,  and  our  hundreds  of 
missionaries,  into  our  own  land,  and  keep  them  there 
until  the  nation  is  so  thoroughly  christianized,  that  it 
becomes  by  its  mere  existence  a  missionary  nation ; 
till  every  ship's  crew  that  leaves  its  shores  on  any 
errand  of  pleasure  or  commerce  or  science  shall,  by 
their  purity,  integrity,  unselfishness,  preach  an  irre- 
sistible gospel  to  Jew  and  Gentiles  ? 

How  would  it  do  to  let  the  Chinese  worship  God 
their  own  way  in  their  own  land,  until  we  have  chris- 
tianized America  up  to  the  point  of  not  plundering 
and  murdering  the  Chinese  when  they  come  to  us  ? 

A  missionary  from  China  was  announced  to  speak 
upon  the  work  which  had  been  done  in  China.  It  was 
precisely  what  I  was  eager  to  know ;  and  I  took  good 
care  to  be  in  attendance.    He  was  very  interesting, 


322  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

full  of  sincerity  and  simplicity.  He  drew  a  contrast 
between  the  Chinese  and  ourselves.  Our  feet  point 
downward ;  the  Chinese,  upward.  But  that  was  the 
paradox  of  our  childhood.  We  read  a  book  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end ;  the  Chinese,  from  the  end  to 
the  beginning.  But  we  learned  that  before  we  had 
left  our  childhood  far  behind  us.  Here,  in  riding 
across  country,  we  see  church-spires  rising  all  around : 
there  we  see  no  church-spires.  But  that  we  could 
evolve  from  our  moral  consciousness.  Here  we  sleep 
on  beds  :  there  they  sleep  on  their  ovens.  Every  one 
to  his  taste. 

"A  bed  by  night,  a  chest  of  drawers  by  day," 

is  not  unknown  to  Christendom.  Here  our  teaming  is 
done  by  horses  and  oxen  :  there  you  will  see  a  donkey 
and  a  woman  working  together.  But  we  need  not 
leave  our  own  country  to  see  that.  In  China  the  ladies 
pinch  their  feet  to  make  them  small :  here  they  pinch 
their  waists.  Does  that  indicate  unquestionable  supe- 
riority  ? 

All  this,  and  much  more,  is  very  interesting ;  but  I 
can  draw  from  it  no  opinion  at  all  as  to  whether  we 
have  really  put  an  opening  wedge  into  China,  or  only 
driven  a  tack  into  the  outmost  bark.  When  I  learn, 
that,  within  the  last  six  or  seven  years,  the  missionary 
has  numbered  eighty  or  ninety  converts,  I  begin  to  see 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  323 

light.  That  is  as  mairy,  perhaps,  as  his  American 
confreres  have  gathered  into  their  home  churches  in 
that  time,  and  is  an  encouraging  sign  ;  but  I  immedi- 
ately long  to  know  what  sort  of  person  a  Chinese  con- 
vert is,  how  much  he  differs  from  a  Chinese  Pagan, 
what  are  his  ideas  of  uprightness  and  honor,  what  are 
his  rank  and  influence  in  Chinese  circles,  and  what  is 
the  rank  of  a  Christian  colony  or  a  Christian  church  in 
Chinese  society.  American  merchants  have  told  me, 
that  some  of  their  Chinese  business  acquaintance, 
unmitigated  heathen,  have  had  as  high  and  delicate  a 
standard  of  integrity  and  generosity  as  any  Christian 
community  can  show.  Is  this  exceptional,  or  general? 
My  returned  missionary  says  he  has  no  doubt,  that,  in 
time,  China  will  be  like  America.  In  what  time,  I 
wonder  ;  and,  outside  of  the  nature  of  things,  what  are 
the  grounds  of  his  belief?    Besides  the  conviction,  — 

"  That  somehow  good 
Will  be  the  final  goal  of  ill," 

is  there  actual  indication  that  China  will  be  able 
to  exhibit,  for  instance,  a  statesmanship,  a  financial 
ability,  an  unbending  integrity,  a  supreme  regard  for 
the  rights  and  welfare  of  others,  approximating  those 
which  have  illustrated  the  government  of  our  own 
commercial  metropolis  ? 

We  will  not  give  up  our  Chinese  missions,  expensive 


324  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

though  they  be ;  for  as  one  little  stream,  pouring  into 
the  fissure  of  a  rock,  will  finally  rend  and  shatter  the 
whole  mass,  so  our  little  gospel-rill  is  going  presently 
to  shiver  this  great  Pagan  empire,  and  rear  upon  its 
ruins  a  Christian  civilization  which  shall  be  a  joy  to 
the  whole  earth. 

But,  while  we  are  waiting,  would  it  not  be  prudent 
and  economical  to  take  advantage  of  other  means? 
"YVe  will  continue  to  send  out  missionaries  at  great 
cost ;  but  we  will  not  forget,  that,  at  North  Adams  and 
California,  the  heathen  have  come  to  us  at  their  own 
expense.  To  be  sure,  they  are  not  on  pleasure  or 
religion  bent,  but  have  a  frugal  mind.  Yet  if,  while 
they  are  merely  pegging  at  their  boots  and  shoes,  we 
could  quietly  convert  them  into  Christians,  it  would 
certainly  be  a  great  deal  cheaper  than  to  fasten  them 
up  in  China,  and  convert  them  there.  And,  as  we  have 
only  about  half  a  million  a  year  to  spend  on  the  whole 
world,  it  must  be  readily  seen  that  the  question  of 
dollars  and  cents  becomes  a  very  important  one.  We 
take  heart  by  looking  at  the  Sandwich  Islands,  which 
were  the  seat  of  a  savage  society,  murderous,  idola- 
trous, licentious.  Now  they  are  clothed,  and  in  their 
right  mind.  The}r  are  governed  by  a  constitution  ;  and 
they  worship  'the  true  God.  So  the  missionaries 
preach,  and  so  we  believe.  .  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
infidels  and  unbelievers,  and  even  good  Christians,  tell 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  325 

us  that  the  natives  are  dying  out.  In  the  good  old 
times,  when  they  worshipped  their  own  gods,  and  were 
not  hampered  by  dress,  they  numbered  four  hundred 
thousand.  Now  they  are  but  sixty-five  thousand.  The 
infidels  admit,  indeed,  that  this  depopulation  had 
begun  before  the  missionaries  appeared  upon  the 
scene  ;  but  their  appearance  has  not  checked  it.  The 
rate  of  decrease  has  even  been  higher  than  ever  since 
the  mission-work ;  and  they  attribute  it  to  the  fact 
that  the  missionaries  have  substituted  for  the  natural 
dress  and  the  natural  amusement  of  the  simple  island- 
ers the  cumbrous  dress  and  the  severe  manners  of 
their  own  austere  climate. 

Have  we  carried  the  gospel  and  the  arts  of  civiliza- 
tion to  a  nation  that  was  rapidly  dying  out,  and  has  it 
been  dying  all  the  more  rapidly  since  it  accepted  us? 
If  so,  is  it  good  economy?  Is  there  some  offset  of 
which  we  know  nothing?  Is  there  any  thing  in  the 
position  of  the  Sandwich  Islands  which  makes  it 
incumbent  on  us  to  have  a  Christian  people  there,  even 
though  we  slay  the  natives  with  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit,  and  substitute  for  them  a  population  transported 
from  our  own  shores  ?  Is  it,  at  any  rate,  so  important 
as  to  compensate  us  for  the  pain  of  seeing,  both  in  the 
secular  and  religious  newspapers,  that  our  home  mis- 
sionaries are  not  receiving  their  usual  grants  from  the 
Home  Missionary  Society  ;  that  ministers  in  October, 

28 


326  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

"  supporting  themselves  on  a  mere  pittance  any  way," 
have  received  no  payments  since  the  first  of  August ; 
that  five  hundred  missionaries  have  waited  months  for 
the  remittance  from  New  York  ("their  credit  is 
impaired,  their  ambition  sapped")  ;  that  there  is 
untold  anxiety  in  the  missionaries'  homes,  on  account 
of  the  delay  in  remitting  salaries ;  that  the  A.  H.  M. 
S.  owes  forty  thousand  dollars  to  missionaries  for  labor 
already  performed ;  and  that  some  of  them  have 
alreacty  sacrificed  their  furniture  and  books,  and  have 
even  sold  the  horse  and  cow  from  their  frontier  homes, 
to  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life  ? 

This,  at  least,  seems  indisputable,  — that  the  world 
is  one.  He  who  works  at  home  faithfully  is  doing  as 
good  service  as  he  who  sails  the  wide  seas  over. 
Wherever  a  man's  taste,  powers,  circumstances,  call 
him  to  go,  thither  he  shall  go  unblamed ;  and,  if  he 
choose  to  stay  in  quiet  havens,  equally  unblamed  shall 
he  stay.  It  is  not  where  he  lives,  but  how  he  lives, 
that  decides  the  character  of  his  stewardship.  He 
shall  put  to  the  best  account  his  love  of  novelty,  stir, 
travel,  fresh  ways  and  large  affairs :  but  he  shall  not 
call  it  consecration  ;  nor  shall  he  imply  that  the  quiet, 
home-staying  student's  life  is  inspired  by  indolence  or 
love  of  ease  and  self.  He  is  consecrated  who  does 
alwa}^s  his  best  work  as  unto  God,  and  not  as  unto 
man.     His  consecration  may  lead  him  to  martyrdom 


MISSIONARY  MUSINGS.  327 

in  the  deserts  of  Africa,  or  by  his  own  fireside,  to 
comfort  on  the  pleasant  uplands  of  India,  or  to  bound- 
less content  in  the  beloved  valleys  of  his  father- 
land. 


THE  LAWS  OF  ANGEK. 


THE  LAWS   OF  ANGER. 

10  far"  as  the  Scriptures  contain  rules,  popularly 
5^|]  so  called,  those  rules  are  not  for  us  ;  and,  so 
far  as  the  Scriptures  are  for  us,  they  are  hardly 
to  be  called  rules.  The  rules  of  the  Bible  are  chiefly 
to  be  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  were  strictly 
laid  down  for  the  Jews.  The  New  Testament  widens 
its  scope  to  embrace  the  whole  world ;  but  it  directly 
and  forcibly  abrogates  rules,  and  deals  only  in  princi- 
ples. 

It  is,  in  some  respects,  far  easier  to  be  guided  bj^ 
rules  than  by  principles.  A  rule  tells  you  exactly 
what  to  do :  a  principle  leaves  you  to  find  out  for 
yourself.  A  rule  demands  only  obedience  :  a  principle 
requires  judgment.  Government  by  rule  attaches  re- 
sponsibility chiefly  to  the  ruler :  government  03^  prin- 
ciple fastens  it  upon  the  individual  actor.  Those  who 
are  governed  can  make  but  one  mistake, — disobedi- 
ence, which  is  fatal :  those  who  govern  themselves  may 
make  a  thousand  mistakes,  none  of  which  is  fatal,  save 
the  mistake  of  motive.     If  the  divine  object  were  to 

331 


332  SERMONS   TO  THE  CLERGY. 

have  an  orderly  and  decorous  world,  one  would  say  we 
ought  to  be  governed  by  rules :  if  it  were  to  build  up 
a  world  of  intelligent  and  dignified  beings,  we  should 
be,  as  we  are,  relegated  to  principles. 

Reason  teaches  us,  that  if  there  is  any  God  at  all, 
any  God  worthy  of  worship,  he  is  the  God  of  the  whole 
world.  He  is  the  Creator  and  Guardian,  not  of  Jew 
and  Christian  alone,  but  of  Gentile  and  Pagan  as  well. 
He  did  not  withhold  himself  from  the  human  race  in  its 
infancy,  and  come  to  its  help  only  when  it  had  grown 
into  fulness  of  days  :  every where,  and  at  all  times, 
he  has  revealed  himself  in  such  wa}*s  as  seemed  to  him 
good.  Many  ages  and  many  nations  have  never  heard 
of  our  Bible ;  yet  in  no  one  of  them,  sa}Ts  that  Bible, 
confirming  the  conclusions  of  our  reason,  has  God 
left  himself  without  a  witness.  The  Bible  may  be  the 
clearest  lamp  unto  our  feet,  and  the  brightest  light 
unto  our  path ;  but  it  does  not  profess  to  be  the  only 
light  that  ever  shone  upon  the  world  ;  and  the  attempt 
to  make  it  so  throws  a  glamour  and  uncertainty  upon 
the  path.  There  can  be  no  harmony  of  the  Gospels,  no 
symmetrical  plan  of  salvation,  no  sufficient  theory  of 
life,  unless  we  admit  that  God  is  the  Father  and  Friend 
of  the  whole  human  race,  that  he  works  efficiently 
without,  as  well  as  within,  the  Bible,  and  that  not  only 
upon  Sinai  and  Zion  may  his  presence  shine,  but  upon 
every  high  hill  under  the  whole  heaven. 


THE  LAWS   OF  ANGER.  333 

I  think  it  would  not  be  far  wrong  to  say  that  the 
popularly  received  Christian  doctrine  of  resentment  is, 
that  there  should  be  no  resentment.  "  I  say  unto  3-011, 
That  ye  resist  not  evil :  but  whosoever  shall  smite  thee 
on  thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also.  And  if 
any  man  will  sue  thee  at  the  law,  and  take  away  thy 
coat,  let  him  have  thy  cloak  also.  And  whosoever 
shall  compel  thee  to  go  a  mile,  go  with  him  twain. 
Give  to  him  that  asketh  thee,  and,  from  him  that  would 
borrow  of  thee,  turn  not  thou  away."  These  and  such 
teachings  as  these  are  our  warrant  for  resolving  the 
whole  duty  of  man  into  a  mush  of  complacency.  We 
have  never  yet  quite  succeeded  in  the  effort.  We  find 
ourselves  ever  and  anon  flaming  out  into  indignation 
and  wrath.  If  a  man  smite  us  on  the  right  cheek,  we 
knock  him  down.  If  a  man  sue  us  at  the  law,  we 
stand  suit ;  and  if  he  would  borrow  of  us,  we  promptly 
turn  away,  unless  he  can  give  ample  security.  But  we 
have  succeeded  so  far  as  to  do  these  things  in  a  shame- 
faced, apologetic  manner.  We  have  succeeded  so  far 
as  to  give  those  who  are  outside  the  church  weapons 
to  wield  against  it  which  they  would  not  otherwise  pos- 
sess, and  which  are  unlawful  to  hold.  We  have  suc- 
ceeded so  far  as  to  put  an  odium  upon  anger.  We  do 
not  recognize  it  as  the  natural  and  proper  exercise  of 
certain  faculties ;  but  we  deem  it  the  overflow  of  evil 
passions.     We  by  no  means  obey  these  precepts  of 


334  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Christ ;  but  we  say  the3T,  and  they  only,  ought  to  be 
obe3Ted  ;  and  we  admit  that  the  reason  we  do  not  obey 
them  is  hardness  of  heart. 

I  admit  nothing  of  the  sort.  This  seems  to  me  a 
feeble  and  false  presentation  of  Christianity,  as  far 
removed  from  real  Christianity  as  it  is  from  Paganism. 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  absolutely  unreasonable ;  and 
nothing  which  is  unreasonable  can  be  Christian.  In 
the  second  place,  it  is  impracticable ;  and  nothing 
which  is  impracticable  can  be  Christian.  But,  in  the 
third  place,  it  is  utterly  antagonistic  to  the  gist  of 
Christ's  teachings,  and  to  the  whole  course  of  his 
life.  He  says  explicitly,  "  Think  not  that  I  am  come 
to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets  :  I  am  not  come  to 
destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  When  he  quoted  them  of  old 
time,  who  said,  "An  e}-e  for  an  e3'e,  and  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth,"  did  he  mean  to  condemn  them?  He  says  expli- 
citly not.  He  introduces  a  new  principle  ;  but  he  does 
not  withdraw  the  old.  He  goes  further  in  the  direc- 
tion which  Moses  travelled.  When  they  of  old  time 
said,  "  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery  :  thou  shalt  not 
kill :  thou  shalt  demand  eye  for  eye  from  thine  enemy," 
the}r  spoke  in  the  interests  of  truth  and  purity,  of  law 
and  order.  Recklessness  on  the  one  hand,  and  revenge 
on  the  other,  were  curbed  b}*  the  law  of  eye  for  eye. 
Whatever  communication  God  may  have  held  with  his 
world   outside   of  the  biblical  record,  we  little  know. 


THE  LAWS   OF  ANGER.  335 

We  do  know  that  there  was  great  need  of  well-defined 
laws  among  the  Jews.  Moses  found  his  people  violent 
and  barbarous  ;  and  he  repressed  them  with  simple  and 
wholesome  laws.  When  these  laws  had  done  their 
work,  Christ  came  and  informed  them  with  spiritual 
life.  Where  Moses  had  forbidden  murder,  Christ  went 
deeper,  and  forbade  those  evil  thoughts  in  the  heart, 
out  of  which  murder  springs.  Where  Moses  had  for- 
bidden indiscriminate  and  unlimited  revenge,  Christ 
went  further,  and  inculcated  forgiveness* and  friendli- 
ness. He  did  not  preach  the  duty  of  resentment, 
because  there  was  no  need  of  it.  Anger  is  one  of  the 
earliest  and  easiest  instincts  of  the  human  being,  and, 
in  the  natural  course  of  things,  needs  to  be  trained  by 
discretion  and  discrimination.  Forgiveness  belongs  to 
a  higher  and  more  spiritualized  and  advanced  stage. 
But  that  Christ  did  not  mean  to  extirpate  anger,  and 
substitute  forgiveness,  is  proved  by  the  whole  tenor  of 
his  own  life.  It  is  no  weak,  yielding,  namby-pamby 
figure  which  the  authors  of  the  Gospels  draw  for  us, 
but  a  Being  of  severe  and  exacting  majesty.  When 
the  Pharisees  shut  their  ej^es  to  the  claims  of  humanit}-, 
and  counted  a  legal  phrase  more  strenuous  than  human 
suffering,  he  looked  round  about  on  them  with  anger. 
Often  his  anger  burst  out  in  bitter,  scorching  words : 
"Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  Irypocrites ! 
for  ye  compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one  proselyte, 


336  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

and,  when  he  is  made,  ye  make  him  twofold  more  the 
child  of  hell  than  yourselves.  Hypocrites,  fools,  blind, 
whited  sepulchres.' '  "  Tribunes, "  "Times,"  and 
"Heralds,"  nay,  even  "Christian  Unions,"  "Inde- 
pendents," and  "Observers  "  address  each  other  in 
no  more  uncomplimentary  terms  than  these.  And 
they  are  not  the  words  of  a  well-meaning  but  short- 
coming Christian,  a  man  who  tried  to  follow  Christ, 
but  found  the  old  Adam  too  strong  for  the  }Toung 
Melancthon :  the}-  are  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ  him- 
self, the  sinless  and  perfect  man,  "the  only-begotten 
of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth."  Nay,  more, 
his  anger  was  not  confined  to  words.  When  this  man, 
who  was  so  meek  and  forbearing,  who  taught  submis- 
sion to  evil,  and  patience  under  insult,  —  when  he  saw 
God's  temple  profaned  to  profit  and  pelf,  his  anger  was 
kindled  into  an  over-mastering  fury :  he  armed  him- 
self, and  alone  drove  out  the  crowd  of  hucksters  and 
peddlers,  scattered  their  money,  upset  their  tables, 
ordered  out  their  wares,  and  made  a  clean  sweep  of 
the  whole  filthy  concern.  There  was  no  turning  of  the 
other  cheek,  no  giving-up  of  the  cloak  also,  but  a 
summary  and  forcible  check  put  upon  abuses.  If  it 
had  been  an  ordinary  church-member,  the  world  look- 
ing on,  and  especially  the  marketmen  who  had  been 
turned  out  of  their  comfortable  stalls,  would  very 
likely  have  said  that  this  reformer  and  radical  had 


THE  LAWS  OF  ANGER.  337 

lost  his  temper,  and  become  as  one  of  us.  But  he 
was  the  Lord  Christ  in  his  anger,  in  his  denunciation, 
in  his  force,  just  as  truly,  just  as  divinely,  and  just  as 
exemplariry,  as  when  he  cried,  "Father,  forgive 
them  ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do.'' 

The  Lamb  of  God  was  so  meek,  that  he  suffered 
himself  to  be  slain  for  us  ;  but  there  came  a  time  when 
"  the  kings  of  the  earth  .  .  .  and  the  mighty 
men  .  .  .  hid  themselves  in  the  dens,  and  in  the 
rocks  of  the  mountains,  and  said  to  the  mountain  and 
rocks,  Fall  on  us,  and  hide  us  from  .  .  .  the  wrath 
of  the  Lamb  :  for  the  great  day  of  his  wrath  is  come  ; 
and  who  shall  be  able  to  stand  ? ' ' 

God's  first  revelation  to  man  is  man:  his  second  is 
the  law :  his  third  is  the  gospel.  One  supplements 
and  complements,  but  does  not  contradict,  its  predeces- 
sors. It  abrogates  only  by  fulfilment.  If  the. human 
race  guided  and  controlled  itself  perfectly,  it  would 
need  no  law :  if  it  perfectly  obeyed  the  law,  it  would 
need  no  gospel.  Neither  law  nor  gospel  requires  the 
annihilation  of  any  faculty  which  God  has  given  to 
man,  and  which  he  gave  before  law  or  gospel.  When 
the  law  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill,"  it  makes  no  iron- 
bound  prohibition  ;  for  this  direction  is  explicitly  mod- 
ified by  sundry  other  directions  concerning  the  modes 
and  circumstances  in  which  thou  shalt  kill.  When  the 
gospel  says,  "  Resist  not  evil,"  it  furnishes  no  ground 

29 


338  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

for  universal  and  immoral  acquiescence  in  or  toleration 
of  wrong ;  for  the  gospel  abounds  in  examples  of 
stern  and  strenuous  resistance  of  evil.  It  only  means, 
that  along  with  the  right  resentment  of  outrage,- of 
resistance  to  evil,  which  the  world  has  alwaj^s  practised, 
lies  another  finer  right  and  duty,  —  namely,  that  of 
forbearance  and  forgiveness.  "When  we  are  to  exercise 
the  one  or  the  other,  each  man  is  to  judge  for  himself. 
There  are  times  when  a  man  does  well  to  be  angry ; 
and  there  are  times  when  he  does  well  to  forgive.  This 
is  certain  :  "  If  thy  brother  trespass  against  thee  seven 
times  in  a  day,  and  seven  times  in  a  day  turn  again  to 
thee,  saying,  I  repent,  thou  shalt  forgive  him ;  nay, 
until  seventy  times  seven."  It  must  be  a  little  hard 
when  it  gets  into  the  four  hundreds  ;  but  even  a  tran- 
sient repentance,  a  feeble  impulse  toward  right,  is  to 
be  recognized  and  encouraged.  But  stronger  than  the 
assertion  is  the  inference,  that,  if  he  do  not  repent, 
thou  shalt  not  forgive  him.  The  doctrine  which  I 
have  heard  preached  as  the  word  of  God,  the  gospel 
of  Christ,  —  that  forgiveness  does  not  depend  upon 
repentance,  that  we  must  treat  those  who  have  done  us 
a  wrong  precisely  as  if  they  had  not  done  it,  —  is  irra- 
tional, unscriptural,  and  demoralizing.  It  violates  the 
first  instincts  of  healthy  human  nature :  it  puts  virtue 
and  vice  on  the  same  level,  and  thus  removes  a  power- 
ful incentive  to  the  one,  and  preventive  of  the  other : 


THE  LAWS   OF  ANGER.  339 

it  makes  the  man  himself  the  centre  of  his  action,  and 
regards  not  at  all  the  effect  of  his  course  upon  his 
brother,  the  wrong-doer. 

There  are  certain  broad  lines  of  demarcation  in 
Christ's  example,  which  we  should  do  well  to  trace. 
We  find  that  his  forbearance  was  exercised  towards 
those  who  had  wronged  himself:  Ms  wrath  blazed 
towards  those  who  wronged  others.  His  pit}T  and 
patience  were  lavished  on  the  poor,  the  suffering,  the 
ignorant :  he  spared  little  to  the  rich  and  bigoted,  who 
misled  and  misruled  them.  When  he  saw  the  multi- 
tude, he  was  moved  with  compassion  on  them ;  but  he 
branded  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  as  blind  leaders 
of  the  blind,  and  hypocrites.  He  forgave,  unasked, 
those  who  crowned  him  with  thorns,  and  doomed  him  to 
cruel  death ;  but  whoso  shall  but  offend  one  of  these 
little  ones  ...  it  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone 
should  be  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  that  he  were 
drowned  in  the  depth  of  the  sea.  "When  the  mob 
would  have  cast  him  down  headlong  from  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  he  only  slipped  out  of  their  hands,  and  went 
his  way  without  words ;  but  no  denunciation  was  too 
strong  for  those  who  bind  hea\y  burdens  .  .  .  and 
lay  them  on  men's  shoulders,  while  themselves  will  not 
move  them  with  one  of  their  fingers ;  for  those  who 
shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven  against  men,  and  will 
neither  go  in  themselves,  nor  suffer  them  that  are  enter- 


340        SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

ing  to  go  in  ;  for  those  who  devour  widows'  houses, 
and  for  a  pretence  make  long  prayers ;  for  those  who 
compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one  proselyte,  and, 
when  he  is  made,  make  him  twofold  more  the  child 
of  hell  than  themselves ;  for  those  who  pay  tithe  of 
mint  and  anise  and  cumin,  and  omit  judgment, 
mercy,  and  faith  ;  for  those  who  make  clean  the 
outside  of  the  cup  and  of  the  platter,  but  within  are 
full  of  extortion  and  excess ;  for  those  who  build  the 
tombs  of  the  prophets,  yet  crucify  the  successors  of 
the  prophets,  —  for  them  we  hear  little  of  compassion, 
nothing  of  forgiveness,  but  Ye  serpents,  3-e  genera- 
tion of  vipers,  how  can  ye  escape  the  damnation  of 
hell? 

In  all  this,  Christ  spoke  the  sentiments  of  honest, 
uncontaminated  human  nature.  Instinct,  reason,  ex- 
perience, and  revelation  are  in  perfect  accord.  It  was 
no  nerveless,  emasculated,  sentimental,  and  impracti- 
cable gospel  which  he  preached,  but  a  gospel  of  dis- 
crimination and  emphasis  and  vitality,  —  a  gospel  for 
the  conduct  of  business  and  courtesy,  as  well  as  of 
religion,  —  a  gospel  masculine,  as  well  as  feminine  ; 
of  strength,  as  well  as  of  refinement ;  of  self-respect, 
as  well  as  of  self-sacrifice ;  of  force,  as  well  as  of 
feeling. 

Let  anger,  then,  resume  its  place  as  an  original  and 
dignified  function  of  the  human  organization,  and  be 


THE  LAWS   OF  ANGER.  341 

no  more  looked  upon  as  the  outburst  of  a  rebellious 
outlaw,  or  an  invincible  alien.  While  we  are  not  to 
be  petty  and  touchy,  easily  provoked,  self-centred, 
solicitous  of  our  own  dignity,  imagining  evil,  quick  to 
fly  into  a  passion,  strict  to  mark  iniquity  against  our- 
selves, implacable  and  revengeful ;  while  we  are  to  be 
generous  and  large  minded,  to  ascribe  good  intent 
where  evil  intent  is  not  demonstrable,  and  not  to  take 
offence  unless  offence  is  meant,  — we  are  equally  under 
bonds  not  to  level  the  barriers  between  courtesy  and 
discourtesy,  between  justice  and  injustice,  between 
right  and  wrong.  We  owe  it  to  the  wrong-doer  to 
throw  all  the  weight  of  our  disapprobation  against  his 
wrong-doing.  If  the  wrong  be  done  not  to  ourselves, 
but  to  others,  and  if,  in  addition,  it  be  a  wrong  done 
to  the  weak  and  the  helpless,  it  is  difficult  to  learn 
from  the  Bible,  or  from  our  own  hearts,  what,  expres- 
sion of  indignation  would  be  excessive.  So  far  from 
the  truth  is  it,  that  an  outburst  of  wrath  must  be  un- 
christian, the  sudden  explosion  of  surprised  but  de- 
praved nature,  it  may  rather  be  that  non-explosiveness 
is  but  an  apathy  of  the  conscience,  a  dulness  of 
sympathetic  perception,  an  outgrowth  of  selfishness,  a 
defect  of  the  moral  organization.  The  only  man  who 
may  be  fairly  inferred  to  have  lost  his  temper  is  the 
man  who  never  shows  that  he  has  any.  If  he  that  is 
angry  with  his  brother  without  cause  is  in  danger  of 

29* 


342  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

the  judgment,  what  reason  have  we  to  suppose  that  he 
who  is  not  angrjr  with  his  brother  when  there  is  cause 
should  go  scot-free?  When  oppression,  fraud,  malice, 
are  banished  from  the  earth,  we  can  afford  to  be  even- 
tempered  ;  but,  in  their  present  roaring  and  rampant 
prosperity,  it  is  more  Christian  that  our  hearts  should 
roll  up  mountain-ranges  of  disapproval,  and  occasion- 
ally burst  into  volcanoes  of  burning  indignation.  God 
is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day,  and  makes  repent- 
ance and  reformation  the  conditions  of  forgiveness. 
What  right  have  we  to  look  upon  the  wicked  with 
tranquillity,  and  take  him  into  our  confidence  and  com- 
panionship, as  if  he  had  never  sinned?  To  be  hasty 
in  spirit,  to  be  angr}^  is  the  mark  of  a  petty  nature : 
to  be  slow  to  anger  is  one  mark  of  a  large  nature :  to 
put  a  ban  upon  anger  is  not  the  work  of  the  divine 
nature. 

The  excesses  of  anger  are  to  be  deprecated.  The 
man  who  loses  control  of  himself  in  his  wrath  is  never 
to  be  admired.  That  is  a  weakness  which  he  should 
conquer.  But  he  who  holds  himself  well  in  hand 
while  he  hurls  his  wrath  at  the  evil-doer  ;  he  who  never 
loses  sight  of  human  weakness,  even  while  the  flame  of 
his  indignation  leaps  forth  to  consume  wickedness,  — 
he  is  not  to  be  apologized  for  as  a  halting  disciple : 
he  is  rather  to  be  rejoiced  over  as  an  effective  apostle. 
Blessed   are  the  peace-makers  indeed;   but    blessed, 


THE  LAWS  OF  ANGER.  343 

also,   is  whoever  cometh  in   the   name  of  the   Lord, 
though  he  come  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword. 

In  this,  as  in  every  other  question,  it  is  well  to 
remember  that  no  one  text  or  precept  of  the  Bible 
undertakes  to  set  forth  in  general  and  in  particular 
the  whole  duty  of  man.  One  phase  of  the  truth  is 
illustrated  in  one  place,  and  one  in  another.  Every 
man  must  decide  for  himself,  on  every  occasion,  as  to 
the  bearings  of  the  Bible  on  his  own  behavior ;  as  to 
whether  he  is  right  to  be  angry,  or  right  to  forbear ; 
as  to  whether  he  demand  eye  for  eye,  or  resist  not 
evil ;  as  to  whether  he  submit  to,  or  revolt  against,  the 
powers  that  be  ;  as  to  whether  he  answer  a  fool  accord- 
ing to  his  folly,  or  answer  him  not.  This  is  an  ever- 
recurring  trouble.  It  gives  a  man  no  rest,  but  keeps 
him  constantly  using  his  observation,  his  conscience, 
and  his  judgment.  Nevertheless,  it  seems  to  be  the 
divine  way,  and  we  cannot  help  ourselves.  "We  may 
insist  that  a  part  is  the  whole,  that  a  principle  is  a 
precept,  that  a  mariner's  compass  is  a  baby-jumper ; 
but  such  insistence  does  not  alter  the  facts.  The  uni- 
verse with  all  its  laws  is  around  us.  The  Bible  with 
all  its  mysteries  is  before  us.  Not  a  hair's-breadth 
will  be  changed  in  the  one  or  the  other,  because  we 
fail  to  apprehend  them. 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PEISONEE. 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PRISONER. 

|E  should  be  able  to  reform  the  world  rnucn 
faster  and  further  than  we  now  do,  if  we 
could  only  have  full  swing  at  it ;  but  we  are 
constantly  hampered  by  the  necessity  of  respecting  the 
freedom  of  the  individual.  If  we  could  enact  and 
enforce  a  law,  that  no  man  should  do  what  was  not 
good  for  him,  and  that  all  men  should  do  what  was  for 
their  good,  we  should  save  the  world  at  one  swoop. 
We  should  have  no  drunkards  ;  for  we  would  forbid  the 
first  intoxicating  glass.  We  should  have  no  paupers  ; 
for  idleness  and  extravagance  should  be  equally  illegal. 
As  it  is,  the  law  cannot  touch  a  man  so  long  as  he 
injures  only  himself,  but  must  wait  until  he  endanger 
or  annoy  others  ;  that  is,  it  lays  no  hand  upon  him 
while  he  is  sowing  the  seed,  but  only  when  the  evil 
harvest  stands  ready  to  be  garnered,  which  is  gener- 
ally too  late  to  be  of  much  service  to  the  man  himself. 
There  seems  here  to  be  a  great  waste  :  nevertheless,  it 
is  the  divine  way.  Man  grants  to  man  no  more  power 
to   hurt  himself  than   is  granted  him  by  his  Maker. 

347 


348  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

When  we  long  for  absolute  dominion,  when  it  seems  to 
us  that  great  good  would  be  done  if  we  could  force 
men  to  work  steadily  and  thoroughly,  to  spend  their 
wages  economically,  and  lay  up  money  for  future 
emergencies,  to  train  their  children  virtuousl}7,  and 
treat  their  wives  justly,  and  be  generally  thriving  and 
respectable,  we  are  obliged  to  remember  that  evidently 
God  thought  not  so.  Apparently  it  seems  to  him 
better  that  men  should  go  wrong  than  that  they  should 
go  right,  under  pressure.  More  is  gained  by  letting 
them  walk  alone,  even  with  much  stumbling,  than  by 
walling  them  in  on  both  sides,  and  holding  them 
upright. 

Nevertheless,  when  men  have  carried  so  far  their 
liberty  to  stumble  and  sin,  that  thej7  impinge  upon  the 
liberty  of  others,  society  steps  in,  and  imposes  re- 
straints ;  and  there  is  where  we  have  the  opportunity, 
and  where,  therefore,  our  duty  lies,  to  practise  our 
theories  of  inculcating  and  enforcing  right.  So  long 
as  a  man  is  outside  of  prison-walls,  he  must  go  his  own 
way,  right  or  wrong.  He  may  abuse  his  advantages, 
and  ruin  his  chances,  both  for  usefulness  and  happi- 
ness, and  you  can  only  remonstrate  and  advise ;  and 
perhaps  not  even  that  will  be  wise.  But  once  he  has 
forfeited  his  freedom,  once  he  comes  into  a  state  of 
pupilage,  and  society  can  wreak  upon  him  its  teaching 
and  preaching,  not  only  with  a  good  heart,  but  with 
sound  judgment. 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  349 

There  lias  sometimes  been  evinced  a  species  of 
sympathy  with  prisoners,  that  is  neither  politic  nor 
sensible.  Feelings  are  attributed  to  them  which  would 
surprise  no  one  more  than  themselves.  Defects  of 
early  education,  peculiarities  of  temper  or  disposition, 
are  brought  forward  as  palliatives  of  crime.  Doubtless 
the}"  are  palliatives  in  the  eye  of  the  Maker  of  us  all. 
Doubtless,  at  the  judgment-seat  of  the  heavens,  many 
an  earthly  decision  will  be  reversed,  and  many  a  man 
whose  deserts  are  unawarded  in  this  world  will  be 
ranked  below  others  who  on  earth  forfeited  freedom 
03*  open  and  dangerous  crimes.  Still  it  remains  that 
we  do  not  have  to  plead  in  the  courts  of  heaven,  but 
of  earth.  Our  juries  are  not  called  upon  to  decide 
moral,  but  legal  guilt.  Our  judges  are  not  appointed 
to  lay  bare  the  secrets  of  the  divine  system,  but  for 
the  defence  of  society.  It  may  be  that  a  man  has 
committed  burglary,  because  his  father  trained  him  to 
evil  courses  ;  or  murder,  because  his  grandfather  trans- 
mitted to  him  a  diseased  thirst  for  intoxicating  drinks. 
All  these  things  may  pass  in  review  before  the  divine 
mind ;  but  they  do  not,  and  they  ought  not,  to  remit  or 
mitigate  the  penalty  imposed  by  human  justice.  Legal 
codes  must  be  founded,  so  far  as  may  be,  on  right  and 
wrong.  To  excuse  a  man  for  a  wicked  act  because  he 
has  previously  done  a  weak  act,  is  to  put  a  premium 
on  weakness.     To  pardon  a  man  for  criminal  violence, 

30 


350  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

because  his  father  never  curbed  his  violent  passions 
when  a  child,  would  be  to  encourage  parental  indolence  ; 
would  be  to  remove  one  of  the  methods  whereby  society 
attempts  to  make  up  for  the  defects  of  home-training. 

But  when  the  law  has  once  withdrawn  a  man  from 
the  world,  and  shut  him  up  in  a  prison  for  the  good  of 
society,  it  ought  to  turn  about,  and  teach  and  train 
him  for  his  own  good.  The  freedom  of  the  individual 
is  abolished.  Justice  has  got  him  under  her  thumb. 
It  is  not  enough  that  the  condition  of  the  prisoner  is 
ameliorated,  that  he  is  no  longer  starved  and  tortured 
and  degraded.  The  education  that  he  has  failed  to 
receive  before  ought  to  be  furnished  him  after  his  incar- 
ceration. The  habits  of  industr}-  which  he  has  never 
formed  should  be  then  imposed  upon  him.  In  large 
measure,  this  is  already  done  ;  but  there  is  room  for 
increased  effort.  When  I  hear  that  a  man  is  sentenced 
to  twenty  3Tears'  imprisonment  for  midnight  burglar}^, 
I  am  moved  to  no  pity  for  him.  If  I  have  pity,  it  is 
for  the  man  who  has  lost,  in  a  night,  the  labor  and  love 
of  years :  it  is  for  the  women  and  children  shocked 
with  sudden  terror  into  illness  and  death :  it  is  for  a 
neighborhood  tortured  with  long  alarm,  all  that  one 
man,  or  set  of  men,  may  live  without  regular  work, 
upon  the  regular  work  of  others.  So  far  from  mitigat- 
ing his  penal t}^,  I  would,  if  possible,  make  his  banish- 
ment from  the  world  more  lasting  and  more  secure. 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PRISONER.  351 

But  let  another  world  be  opened  to  him,  which  shall 
not  be  merely  a  living  grave.  He  has  failed  in  this : 
there  is  for  him  no  second  trial.  A  stigma  is  affixed 
to  his  name,  which  no  tears  of  repentance  can  wash 
out ;  but  in  his  prison-world  let  hope  beckon,  and  com- 
fort and  motive  not  be  wanting.  When  I  hear  that, 
of  the  hundreds  in  a  single  prison,  only  half  can  be 
employed,  because  there  is  not  work  enough  for  them, 
I  am  moved  with  pity.  To  set  a  hundred  wretched 
minds  preying  upon  themselves  is  not  punishment :  it 
is  unintended  and  unmeaning  torment.  Punishment 
should  be  absolute,  but  not  vindictive.  We  may 
admit  that  it  is  not  remedial,  but  preventive ;  but  if, 
while  it  protects  society,  it  reforms  the  criminal,  is 
harm  done?  I  would  have  every  prison  made,  so  far 
as  is  possible,  a  reform-school  for  its  inmates.  Neither 
society  nor  the  individual  may  be  wilfully  guilty  con- 
cerning its  brother  whom  it  has  imprisoned  ;  but,  when 
once  it  has  him  in  its  power,  it  becomes  guilty,  if  it 
leave  any  stone  unturned  for  his  benefit.  He  is  often 
ignorant :  he  should  be  taught.  He  has  lived  in  low 
ways  because  he  knew  of  no  higher :  let  him  be 
wisely  and  warily  led  into  the  upper  regions.  He  has 
had  no  religious  instruction ;  his  spiritual  nature  is 
untouched:  let  the  dull  and  uninteresting  preachers 
prose  to  what  outside  ears  can  be  got  to  listen  to  them, 
since  outside  are  many  means  of  grace ;  but  let  these 


352  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

imprisoned  and  dumb  lips  be  touched  with  live  coals. 
These  criminals  seldom,  if  ever,  knew  how  healthful 
was  the  process,  and  how  sweet  the  rewards,  of  daily 
tasks  well  done.  "Why  should  it  not  be  taught  them, 
partly  hj  enforcing  regular  work,  partly  by  investing 
for  them  the  wages  of  their  work,  after  deducting  the 
expense  of  their  maintenance?  The  State  does  not 
want  its  prisons  to  be  pecuniarily  profitable  for  the 
profit's  sake.  Suppose  a  man  has  spent  five  years  in 
prison.  Suppose  his  earnings  over  and  above  his 
share  of  the  expenses  have  been  for  that  time  a  thou- 
sand dollars.  It  is  a  very  small  thing  whether  that 
money  goes  into  the  State  coffers  or  not ;  but  it  is  not 
a  small  thing  if  the  man  have  acquired  a  trade,  regular 
habits,  and  has  a  capital  of  one  thousand  dollars  to 
begin  life  with.  It  may  be  the  difference  to  him 
between  an  honest  career  and  a  return  to  evil  courses. 
It  may  be  the  difference  to  the  State  between  a  citizen 
constantly  adding  to  her  wealth,  virtue,  and  strength, 
and  a  rogue  preying  upon  all. 

Certain  cells  in  a  well-ordered  State's  prison  were 
provided  with  good  kerosene  lamps.  The  keeper  said 
that  all  prisoners  who  were  condemned  for  twenty 
3'ears  or  more  were  allowed  lamps  in  their  cells  that 
they  might  read  in  the  evening.  This  is  as  it  should  be. 
Society  often  needs  that  a  man  should  be  banished  for 
twenty  years  ;  but  it  never  needs  that  he  should  not  be 


TEE  SIGHING   OF  TEE  PRISONER.  353 

instructed  and  improved  as  far  as  possible.  So  far  as 
he  is  a  criminal,  he  must  be  punished  ;  but,  along  with 
that,  so  far  as  he  is  a  victim,  let  him  be  helped.  If 
intellectual  stimulus  be  an  incentive  to  virtue,  let  us 
minister  to  his  intellect.  To  the  imagination  of  the 
classes  which  furnish  the  criminals,  a  prison  would  be 
none  the  less  terrible  because  it  was  a  reform-school  as 
well  as  a  prison  ;  while  to  those  who  are  actually  con- 
fined therein,  it  might  prove  a  'savor  of  life  unto  life. 
It  is  desirable  that  criminals  should  feel  the  power  of 
law ;  but  if  they  can  also  feel  that  law  is  more  be- 
nevolent than  lawlessness,  a  double  benefit  is  gained. 
If  there  be  any  thing  in  geography,  histoiy,  science, 
poetry,  in  Sunday  schools  and  music  and  Bible,  in 
politics  foreign  and  domestic,  in  patriotism  and  help- 
fulness and  humanity,  which  is  calculated  to  soften 
the  manners,  and  stimulate  the  mind,  and  purify  the 
heart,  outside  of  prison-walls,  it  is  equally  so  calculated 
within  those  walls.  And  that  the  men  gathered  there 
have  been  largely  destitute  of  those  advantages  is  the 
strongest  reason  why  society  should  attend  to  them  when 
they  are  brought  under  her  absolute  control.  When 
a  man  is  imprisoned  for  ever  so  short  a  time,  let  his 
intellectual  and  moral,  as  well  as  his  industrial,  educa- 
tion be  taken  up  at  precisely  the  point  where  it  was 
relinquished  outside.  If  he  cannot  read,  let  him  begin 
with  the  alphabet.     If  he  is  a  scholar,  let  his  scholar- 

30* 


354  SERMONS  TO  TEE  CLERGY. 

ship  come  into  play.  If  lie  has  robbed,  let  him  restore 
the  amount  robbed  before  his  return  to  freedom.  Let 
him  learn  the  value  of  daily  earnings  and  accumulated 
treasures  by  accumulations  and  earnings  of  his  own. 
That  is,  let  not  societ}^  inflict  a  purely  arbitrary  but  a 
natural  and  logical  punishment.  He  is  a  wicked  man  ; 
but  half  the  value  of  punishment  is  lost  when  we 
remember  only  the  wickedness  and  forget  the  manhood. 
Just  as  much  is  gained  by  treating  criminals  rationally 
as  by  treating  children  rationally ;  for  criminals  are  a 
sort  of  spoiled  children.  They  have  violated  State 
law,  but  we  have  no  right  to  violate  it  towards  them. 
No  more  should  we  violate  or  disregard  natural  law  in 
dealing  with  them.  Cause  and  effect,  motive  and  sen- 
timent, have  just  as  full  play  with  them  as  with  outside 
folk.  A  violent  and  desperate  fellow  entered  upon  his 
imprisonment,  declaring  that  nothing  should  induce 
him  to  perform  the  allotted  task- work.  When  he  was 
brought  out  with  the  others,  he  sat  passive.  For 
several  days  the  warden  took  no  notice  of  him.  Then 
he  quietly  asked  him  who  he  was,  why  he  was  there, 
how  long  was  his  sentence,  —  as  if  he  knew  nothing 
about  him,  —  and  then  as  quietly  added  that  the  term 
of  his  sentence  would  be  considered  to  begin  from  the 
time  when  he  began  to  work.  The  man  looked  at  the 
warden  a  moment.  A  new  light  broke  upon  his  mind : 
he  went  to  work  at  once,  and  remained,  during  his  im- 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  355 

prisonment,  one  of  the  most  orderly  and  well-disposed 
of  all  the  inmates. 

I  wish  I  could  add  that  after  he  came  out  he  led 
a  life  of  industry,  honesty,  and  sobriety,  and  died 
lamented  ;  but  that  I  do  not  know.  I  am  sure  he  was 
more  likely  to  do  so  than  if  he  had  been  flogged  and 
"burked"  and  shower-bathed,  and  hung  up  by  his 
thumbs,  and  kept  in  solitary  confinement  in  a  dark 
cell. 

Let  the  sighing  of  the  prisoner  come  before  thee,  not 
that  he  may  be  released  from  prison,  but  that  his  soul 
may  be  loosed  from  its  bonds. 

An  interesting,  and  at  first  sight  humane  custom 
has  sprung  up  in  the  Massachusetts  State-prison,  and 
perhaps  in  the  prisons  of  other  States.  A  sumptuous 
Thanksgiving  dinner  is  given  to  all  the  prisoners, — roast 
turkey,  plum-pudding,  and  the  vegetables,  sauces,  and 
other  luxuries  thereunto  pertaining.  No  one  can  object 
to  this  little  festival  within  those  gloomy  walls  ;  and, 
rather  than  it  should  fail,  private  charity  would  doubt- 
less step  forward,  and  furnish  the  necessary  funds. 
For  these  men,  "roughs"  and  "  rascallions "  as 
they  are,  are  also,  let  us  always  remember,  victims,  — 
victims  of  the  ignorance  and  brutality  of  their  parents 
and  of  society,  —  victims  of  evil  training,  and  of  their 
own  unbridled  passions.  To  whatever  gratification  can 
be  furnished  them  without  harm  to  themselves  or  to  the 


356  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

community,  they  are  thrice  and  four  times  welcome. 
Bid  them  into  the  circle  of  human  brotherhood  ;  for  to 
that  the}'  have  a  right.  Blood-stained  it  may  be,  and 
crime-hardened,  still  God  hath  made  them  of  one 
family  with  ourselves ;  and  if  by  any  means  they  can 
be  assured  that  they  are  not  without  the  pale  of  human 
sympathy,  they  are  removed  one  step  at  least  toward 
reformation. 

But  after  the  dinner  there  are  certain  exercises  of  a 
more  questionable  character.  The  prisoners  are  as- 
sembled :  the  warden  addresses  them,  and  announces 
to  a  certain  number  unconditional  and  immediate  par- 
don, granted  by  the  governor  and  council.  The  charac- 
ter of  the  crime,  the  duration  of  the  sentence,  seem  not 
to  enter  into  the  case.  The  last  newspaper  announce- 
ment I  have  seen  is  simply  this,  omitting  the  names :  — 

"After  dinner,  Warden  C.  made  an  address,  and  announced 
the  pardons  granted  by  the  governor  and  council.  The  convicts 
liberated  were  A.  B.,  sentenced  to  the  institution  from  Boston, 
July,  18G3,  for  life,  for  committing  the  crime  of  rape,  and  who 
is  now  fifty  years  old;  C.  D.,  sentenced  June,  18G8,  for  life,  for 
committing  murder  in  Worcester,  now  fifty-two  years  old;  E.  F., 
sentenced  June,  18GG,  for  twelve  years,  for  robbery  by  force  and 
violence  in  Boston,  now  thirty-seven  years  old;  G.  H.,  sentenced 
October,  18G5,  for  fifteen  years,  for  manslaughter  committed  in 
Boston,  and  now  sixty-two  years  old." 

This  is  all.  There  is  no  explanation  of  the  act,  no 
presentation  of  the  grounds  for  pardon.     No  one  inti- 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  357 

mates  that  a  single  prisoner  was  unfairly  tried  or 
unjustly  convicted.  There  is  no  hint  of  any  new  evi- 
dence changing  the  complexion  of  their  act.  There  is 
simply  a  Thanksgiving  dinner,  followed  by  "  exer- 
cises ;  "  and  four  men,  every  one  of  them  guilty  of  the 
worst  crimes  against  society,  every  one  of  them  guilty 
of  force  and  violence,  of  the  infliction  of  unspeakable 
horror,  of  death,  and  worse  than  death,  are  let  loose 
upon  the  community,  in  spite  of  the  law  which  was 
brought  to  bear  upon  them  and  the  justice  which  was 
supposed  to  be  meted  out  to  them.  A.  B.,  sentenced 
for  life,  for  rape,  was  pardoned  after  being  in  prison 
eleven  }rears,  and  has  still  nineteen  years  of  life  before 
him.  C.  D.,  sentenced  for  life,  for  murder,  is  par- 
doned out  at  the  expiration  of  six  }Tears,  and  has 
eighteen  vigorous  }^ears  to  brandish  knife  and  pistol 
among  his  fellows.  E.  F.,  for  robbery  by  force  and 
violence,  was  sentenced  for  twelve  years,  and  at  the 
robust  age  of  thirty-seven  is  discharged,  after  eight 
years  of  confinement.  G.  H.  killed  his  man,  and  his 
fifteen  years  are  reduced  to  nine,  leaving  him,  at  that, 
only  eight  years  to  try  his  hand,  according  to  the 
allotted  age  of  man.  What  is  the  use  of  all  our 
expensive  paraphernalia  of  law,  if  its  decisions  and  its 
sentences  are  to  be  thus  set  aside  ?  Why  should  men 
be  brought  from  their  farms  and  their  counting-rooms 
to  serve  on  jury-seats  ?     Why  should  lawyers  be  clothed 


358  SERMONS   TO  THE- CLERGY. 

with  dignity,  and  judges  with  power,  if  the  result  of 
their  efforts  is  to  be  brought  to  nought  by  an  outside 
authority  ?  Do  the  governor  and  council  know  more 
about  the  case  than  lawyers,  judge,  and  jury?  Then 
wh}'  be  at  the  expense  of  lawj^ers,  judge, -and  jury?  If 
the  court  is  not  so  well  informed  as  the  council,  let  the 
court  be  abolished.  If  the  men  whose  business  it  is  to 
examine  the  case  thoroughly,  if  the  men  who  are  liber- 
ally paid  for  that,  and  for  nothing  else,  do  not  compre- 
hend it  so  well  as  men  to  whom  it  is  only  a  side  issue, 
one  incident  among  many  duties,  why  be  at  the  expense 
of  maintaining  the  unprofitable  servants?  Either  let 
our  courts  of  law  be  abolished,  or  let  their  decisions 
stand. 

There  is  annually  published  in  Massachusetts  a 
Blue  Book,  in  which  the  governor  records  for  the  legis- 
lature the  number  of  the  pardons  he  has  granted  and 
the  reasons  for  which  he  has  granted  them.  I  have 
never  seen  a  copy  of  this  volume,  and  I  fanc}r  it  has 
no  very  general  circulation  ;  but,  from  such  extracts 
as  I  have  seen,  we  could  hardly  gather  arguments  in 
favor  of  the  practice  of  pardoning. 

The  Blue  Book  for  1875  records  eighty-seven  pardons 
during  the  year  1874.  In  more  than  a  dozen  cases, 
pardon  was  granted  because  the  sentence  was  consid- 
ered too  severe ;  in  one,  because  the  sentence  was 
illegal ;  in  one,  because  the  prisoner  was    evidently 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  359 

insane  when  his  crime  was  committed ;  in  one,  because 
the  council  felt  there  was  reason  to  believe  the  wit- 
nesses against  the  prisoner  were  perjured ;  in  twelve 
cases,  because  the  prisoner  was  intoxicated  at  the 
time  of  committing  his  offence  ;  two,  because  a  comrade 
in  crime  had  been  pardoned  ;  one,  because  his  twin- 
brother,  from  whom  he  had  never  been  separated,  was 
to  leave  prison  at  an  earlier  da}',  and  the  pardon  was 
necessary  to  prevent  their  separation.  In  no  one  case 
do  these  extracts  show  that  new  evidence  had  been 
discovered.  Even  in  those  cases  where  the  reasons, 
had  they  existed,  would  have  been  sufficient,  there  is 
but  the  smallest  proof  that  they  existed.  Insanity  of 
the  prisoner,  perjury  of  witnesses,  belong,  one  would 
sa}',  to  law3Ters,  judge,  and  jur}r,  the  regularly  appointed 
ministers  of  justice,  who  make  its  administration  the 
business  of  their  life ;  not  to  an  outside  bocty,  with 
whom  it  is  a  mere  incidental  duty.  Many  of  the 
reasons  alleged  are  purely  frivolous ;  and  some  are 
immoral  and  disastrous,  calculated  to  foster,  rather 
than  repress,  crime. 

Side  by  side  with  these  festive  and  fraternal  pardon- 
ings,  we  read  such  paragraphs  as  these  :  — 

"K.  L.,  the  notorious  horse-thief,  sentenced  to  the  M.  State- 
prison  for  six  years,  and  pardoned  about  a  year  ago,  was  again 
arrested  at  O.,  charged  with  the  same  crime. 

"P.  R.,  the  burglar  who  was  captured  iu  the  unoccupied  house 


360        SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

on  B  Street,  Wednesday,  is  an  old  thief,  and  has  a  history. 
He  was  first  arrested  Aug.  6,  1865,  for  breaking  and  entering  a 
dwelling-house.  He  had,  about  that  time,  broken  into  several 
dwelling-houses,  and  carried  on  his  burglarious  operations  with 
the  aid  of  two  accomplices.  The  two  latter  were  arrested  after  a 
desperate  fight.  When  the  case  was  tried,  P.  R.  and  one  accom- 
plice received  a  sentence  of  twenty  years  each  ;  the  other,  five. 
P.  P.  was  pardoned  out  November,  1872,  after  seven  years' 
imprisonment." 

Is  six  years  too  long  a  time  for  a  notorious  horse- 
thief  to  be  confined  ?  Before  he  was  pardoned  out,  had 
he  made  restitution  to  all  the  men  whose  property  he 
had  stolen?  Did  P.  R.  make  airy  amends  to  the 
owners  of  the  houses  he  had  broken  into?  Had  he 
atoned  for  the  fright,  the  anxiety,  the  apprehensions, 
which  his  violence,  his  fightings,  and  his  burglaries 
had  caused  among  women  and  children?  What 
extravagance  and  folly,  what  mockery  of  law,  what 
satire  upon  justice,  is  it  that  rises  up  in  the  glow  of 
roast  turke}r  and  plum-pudding,  and  without  an}^  pre- 
text of  new  evidence,  or  any  allegation  of  undue  sever- 
er in  the  judge,  coolly  throws  open  the  prison-door, 
and  lets  the  notorious  horse-thief,  the  brain-rapping 
burglar,  the  murderer,  and  the  devil  incarnate  go  forth 
again  up  and  down  the  earth,  seeking  whom  they  may 
destroy ! 

The  least  we  can  demand  is,  that  the  way  out  of 
prison  shall  be  as  well  barred  as  the  way  in.     If  law- 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  361 

yers,  judge,  and  jury  are  necessary  to  protect  a  mur- 
derer against  a  community,  they  are  certainly  just  as 
essential  to  protect  a  community  against  the  murderer. 
To  try  the  burglar  in  open  court,  with  law3~ers  to 
defend  him,  and  then  to  let  him  out  of  the  prison  to 
which  the}r  have  sentenced  him,  without  giving  the 
community  so  much  as  a  warning,  or  any  opportunity 
to  protest,  is  to  bring  law  into  discredit.  The  power 
to  pardon  should  be  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
governor  and  council,  or  should  be  hedged  round  by 
as  many  safeguards  against  abuse  as  is  the  power  to 
convict  and  punish. 

Is  this  a  strange  theme  to  introduce  into  ordinary 
discussion  ?  Is  it  a  matter  which  pertains  to  profes- 
sional men,  and  not  to  untrained  citizens,  idiots,  and 
women?  Did  the  children  murdered  in  Boston  by  that 
young  fiend  who  was  pardoned  out  of  the  Reform 
School  belong  any  less  to  women  than  to  men?  It  is 
only  a  few  months  ago  that  the  murder  of  a  woman 
shocked  the  whole  country.  A  little  New  England 
family  was  living  its  quiet,  happy,  affectionate  family 
life,  as  so  many  New  England  families  do.  Three 
women,  domestic,  industrious,  independent,  cultivated, 
and  refined,  doing  their  own  work,  enjoying  society, 
music,  literature,  passed  their  gentle,  harmless,  help- 
ful days  in  the  midst  of  a  community  that  loved  and 
respected     them.      Up   to   this   tranquil    hearthstone 

31 


3G2  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

tramped  a  hardened,  a  dehumanized  sot,  who  had  been 
twice  imprisoned  for  "  felonious  assault  "  and 
"  assault  with  intent  to  kill,"  and  once  pardoned  out 
from  a  twelve^ears'  sentence,  after  four  and  a  half 
years'  detention,  clutched  the  helpless  woman,  defaced 
her  delicate  and  beautiful  features,  bruised  and  crushed 
her  tender  bod}',  tore  out  her  life  with  such  reckless 
and  brutal  violence,  that  even  the  cold  report  of  a 
municipal  inquest  affirms  that  the  lovely  face  bore  the 
expression  of  a  person  "  dying  in  extreme  agony," 
leaving  to  the  unspeakable  sorrow  of  her  friends  no 
consolation  but  that  it  is  all  over ;  that  her  woe 
was  past  before  theirs  had  begun ;  that  whatever 
heaven  awaits  the  pure  in  heart  was  hers  long  before 
the}7  knew  she  had  gone  from  earth ;  that,  out  of  the 
horror  of  great  darkness,  she  escaped  swiftly  into  the 
ineffable  and  all-atoning  light. 

The  young  monster  who  has  infested  Boston  and 
vicinity  for  the  last  few  years  made  it  his  amusement 
to  lure  little  children  into  by-places,  and  there  torture 
and  mutilate  them.  He  was  presently  caught,  and  sent 
to  the  Reform  School,  where,  as  the  supply  of  small 
children  failed  him,  he  seems  to  have  behaved  himself. 
Thereupon  some  mischief-maker,  wiser  in  his  own  con- 
ceit than  seven  men  that  left  the  law  alone,  had  the 
young  monster  pardoned  out,  and  turned  loose  among 
the    little    children    again.      Naturally    enough,    he 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PRISONER.  363 

improved  his  opportunities.  With  his  appetite,  of 
course,  increased  by  long-enforced  abstinence  from  his 
game,  he  gratified  it  to  a  greater  extent,  and  tortured 
his  little  victims  to  death.  Two  innocent  children,  a 
boy  and  a  girl,  are  supposed  to  have  lost  life  at  his 
cruel  hands ;  and  he  now  stands  in  custody,  awaiting 
the  execution  of  his  sentence,  planning  meanwhile,  and 
partiall}7  executing,  new  crimes  ;  and  social  science  is 
baffled  to  know  what  to  do  with  him. 

Meanwhile  other  developments  of  a  similar  charac- 
ter cry  aloud  to  social  science.  There  is  said  to  be  a 
boy  in  the  Reform  School  at  Westborough,  who,  at 
eleven  years  of  age,  drowned,  without  provocation,  a 
schoolmate  five  3Tears  of  age,  simply,  as  he  said,  "  to 
see  the  little  devil  kick  in  the  water."  He  had  diverted 
himself  before  with  stealing,  with  throwing  stones  on 
the  railroad- track,  and  such  pleasant  sport,  and  never 
could  be  brought  to  express  regret,  or  any  thing  but 
indifference,  to  the  act  for  which  he  was  arrested,  con- 
victed of  murder,  and  —  sent  to  the  Reform  School. 

Then  we  hear  of  another  case  ;  and  this  time  it  con- 
cerns the  gentler  sex.  A  young  girl,  Henrietta  Wai- 
bel,  fifteen  3-ears  old,  takes  to  burning  houses,  clothes, 
and  particularly  little  children.  She  has  no  other 
motive  or  excuse  than  that  she  has  a  mania  for  it ;  and 
she  serenely  informs  her  employer  that  she  has  often 
tried  to  burn  places  and  children  before. 


364         SERMONS   TO   THE   CLERGY. 

The  metaphysical  and  perhaps  the  moral  nature  of 
these  deeds  belong  to  science  ;  but  the  protection  of 
the  little  children  who  remain  alive  belongs  to  society, 
—  to  you,  and  to  me,  and  to  every  person.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  decide  whether  a  boy  inherits  his  propen- 
sity from  a  butcher-father  and  a  butcheiy-witnessing 
mother  ;  it  is  not  necessary  to  describe  the  exact  meas- 
ure of  guilt  attributed  to  him  by  divine  Justice  :  but 
it  is  necessaiy  to  prevent  him  from  sticking  his  jack- 
knife  into  any  more  little  girls  and  bo}Ts.  Many 
demand  that  he  be  hung.  Others  denounce  such  a  de- 
mand as  brutal.  In  this  they  are  wrong.  The  demand 
may  not  be  wise,  but  it  is  not  brutal :  it  is  the  cry  of 
terror  over  the  danger  of  littlo  children  ;  it  does  not 
spring  from  brutality,  but  from  fear. 

We  may  admit,  for  the  time,  that  Jesse  Pomeroy  is 
not  morally  guilty ;  that  he  has  inherited  a  thirst  for 
blood,  and  has  not  inherited  a  will  strong  enough  to 
overcome  it.  He  is  not,  let  us  sa}^,  a  fit  object  for 
moral  indignation,  and  is  only  to  be  restrained  from 
evil  deeds.  But  how?  We  restrained  him  once.  We 
sent  him  to  a  reform  school ;  and  some  interloper  forth- 
with stepped  in,  snapped  his  fingers  at  the  law,  and 
Jesse  Pomeroy  was  pardoned  out.  If  we  send  him  to 
the  State-prison  for  life,  he  is  as  sure  as  statistics  to 
be  pardoned  out  at  the  end  of  six  years,  by  which  time 
he  will  be  a  man ;  and  if  a  youngster  kills  two,  and 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  365 

tortures  twenty,  before  he  is  sixteen,  who  can  tell  what 
feats  of  homicide  he  may  perform  at  twenty-one  ?  If 
he  is  put  into  a  lunatic  asylum,  the  chances  are  that 
he  will  be  sane  enough  to  escape,  or  to  lull  his  keepers 
into  a  belief  in  his  sanit}\ 

The  creature  has  a  defective  organization,  and  prob- 
ably has  no  idea  of  the  real  nature  of  the  torture  he 
inflicts.  He  has  no  sjmipathy  to  tell  him  the  frenzy 
of  agony  and  terror  which  he  enforces  upon  his 
victims.  If  this  intellectual  deficiency  could  be  helped 
out  by  a  little  experimental  knowledge,  it  would 
probably  sharpen  somewhat  his  moral  perceptions. 
If,  for  instance,  a  strong  man  should  stand  over  him 
as  long  as  he  stood  over  each  little  boy,  and  give  him 
as  many  cuts  with  a  jack-knife  as  he  dealt  out  to  his 
victim,  —  not  by  way  of  revenge,  but  simply  to  let 
light  into  his  darkened  mind,  and  show  him.  how  a 
jack-knife  feels,  and  what  pain  and  dread  and  terror  and 
helplessness  are,  —  it  might  be  a  good  thing  for  him. 
The  old  Jewish  law,  An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth,  seems  the  very  perfection  of  penal  law, 
the  most  accurate  transcript  of  natural,  which  is 
divine,  law.  But  society  seems  to  have  agreed  not  to 
carry  it  out,  even  where  it  was  ^practicable.  It  is 
useless  to  say  that  we  abolish  it  on  account  of  the 
Saviour's  condemnation ;  for  we  do  not  in  the  least 
accept  his  alternative,  which  was  non-resistance :  so 

31* 


366  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY 

that  we  have  now  neither  the  law  of  the  old  nor  of 
the  new  dispensation,  but  a  substitution  of  our  own. 
Since,  then,  the  lex  talionis  is  not  in  force,  it  only 
remains  to  do  the  best  we  can  under  such  laws  as  we 
have.  The  law  does  permit  restraint,  which  has  been 
tried,  and  found  not  only  useless,  but  fruitful  of  fresh 
crime  and  greater  grief.  The  law  also  permits  and 
prescribes  the  penalty  of  death. 

When  Nature  turns  into  the  world  children  so 
unfortunately  constituted  as  these  stabbing,  burning, 
drowning  wretches,  one  feels  for  them  a  pity  so  pro- 
found that  one  would  never  subject  them  to  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  this  world,  —  a  world  which  has  very  vague 
ideas  on  the  subject  of  inherited  traits  and  emotional 
insanity,  and  contemplates  then  possessors  with  horror 
and  hate,  —  but  would  send  them  out  of  it  as  speedily 
and  as  mercifully  as  possible.  To  whatever  world  they 
may  go,  they  cannot  find  one  that  has  less  use  for  them, 
or  is  less  adapted  to  their  peculiarities,  than  this.  It 
is  done,  not  to  punish  the  children,  but  on  the  ground 
that  Nature  has  put  out  a  bad  piece  of  work,  and  we 
send  it  back  on  her  hands.  Does  this  seem  to  be 
trifling  with  the  sacredness  of  human  life?  But  the 
Author  of  Nature  does  not,  apparently,  consider  human 
life  too  sacred  or  inviolate.  What  God  seems  to  be 
resolved  on  is  to  have  his  own  way,  to  carry  out  his 
own  plans  ;  and  he  does  have  his  own  way,  and  he  does 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PRISONER.  367 

carry  out  his  own  plans,  though  thousands  fall  at  our 
side,  and  ten  thousand  at  our  right  hand.  Gases  will 
explode,  and  waterspouts  must  burst,  and  gravitation 
hold  good,  though  families  are  overwhelmed,  and  cities 
perish.  I  do  not  quarrel  with  this.  I  admit  that 
God's  way  and  God's  plans  are  the  best.  I  only  say 
that  always  and  everywhere  he  makes  individual  life 
subordinate  to  general  law.  More  than  this,  he  does 
not  consider  human  life  too  sacred  to  be  put  into 
human  hands.  Man  gives,  and,  to  a  very  large  extent, 
man  takes  away.  If  poor  little  Kitty  Curran's  life 
was  not  too  sacred  for  Jesse  Pomeroy  to  take,  surely 
Jesse  Pomeroy's  life  is  not  too  sacred  for  society  to 
take,  in  preservation  of  all  the  little  Kittys  who  are 
not  yet  buried  under  his  ash-heap.  Human  life,  the 
human  soul,  is  sacred,  —  too  sacred  to  be  profaned  by 
such  travesties  as  Jesse  Pomeroy  aud  Henrietta 
Waibel  and  the  Westborough  reform  scholar.  If  some 
imperfect,  distorted,  or  mischievous  coin  comes  from 
the  mint,  we  send  it  back  to  be  recoined,  without 
misgiving.  It  is  not  that  we  undervalue,  but  that  we 
rightly  value,  the  worth  of  money.  Through  some- 
body's violation  of  the  law,  which  is  holy  and  just  and 
good,  these  unhappy  children  are  in  the  world,  defec- 
tive, distorted,  monstrous,  fatal. "  They  can  never 
have  any  fair  showing  here.  They  are  weighted  with 
incapacity  and  with  crime.     The  law  has  provided  a 


368  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

way  by  which  we  may  make  it  possible  for  the  divine 
Being  to  give  them  a  better  start ;  and  they  certainly 
cannot  have  a  worse  one.  Divested  of  the  burden  of 
weakness,  or  vice,  or  brain-disease  which  disabled  them 
here,  they  may  be  born  again  in  some  other  world  as 
pure  and  perfect  as  the  happ}?-  infants  of  this.  This, 
of  course,  is  the  merest  possible  conjecture  ;  but  they 
should  certainty  have  the  chance. 

But  the  main  object  is  to  keep  down  the  crop  of 
little  monsters  that  seem  to  be  springing  up  in  the 
wake  of  Jesse  Pomeroy.  Henrietta  Waibel  may  not 
have  been  to  blame  for  her  mania  ;  and  we  may  none 
of  us  understand,  or  make  proper  allowance,  for  the 
powerful  nature  of  that  mania ;  but  if,  while  we  are 
striving  to  make  it  out,  it  is  thoroughly  understood 
that  society  has  a  mania  for  hanging  all  little  girls  and 
bo3's  who  have  a  mania  for  murdering  other  little  girls 
and  boys,  we  shall  be  likely  to  keep  the  mania  under  till 
such  time  as  we  shall  be  able  to  repress  it  altogether. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  persuade  myself  that  the 
Salem  witchcraft  was  wholly  an  intentional  fraud  ;  but 
I  do  believe,  that  if  the  young  people  whose  antics 
brought  it  to  a  head  had  been  soundly  punished,  with- 
out reason,  or  argument,  or  niercy,  every  time  they 
showed  the  first  symptom  of  floundering  into  fits, 
instead  of  being  coddled  and  cosseted,  they  would 
have  been  speedily  brought  to  their  senses.     Whatever 


THE  SIGHING   OF  THE  PRISONER.  369 

devil  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  would  have  been  suc- 
cinctly driven  out ;  and  good  old  Rebecca  Nourse  would 
have  died  in  her  bed,  Ml  of  years  and  honors.  In 
like  manner,  while  we  are,  as  is  proper,  investigating 
the  moral  status  of  these  young  monsters,  denning 
the  cause  and  end  of  their  being,  divesting  them,  so 
far  as  may  be,  of  their  guilt,  and  relegating  them  to  the 
divine  compassion,  I  would  at  the  same  time  have  it 
deeply  impressed  upon  the  public  mind  that  moral 
guilt  and  legal  guilt  are  wholly  different  things ;  that 
children  who  murder  their  playmates  for  fun  shall  be 
just  as  surely  hung  as  if  they  did  it  for  greed,  anger, 
or  revenge ;  that,  the  younger  they  are  when  they  de- 
liberately and  consciously  kill,  the  more  hopeless  is  it 
to  try  to  make  them  over,  and  the  more  imperative  is 
it  to  take  the  first  step  to  their  reform  by  sending  them 
out  of  a  world  where  such  temptations  assail  them. 

The  right  or  the  wrong,  the  wisdom  or  the  unwisdom, 
of  capital  punishment,  does  not,  however,  enter  into 
this  question,  except  by  courtesj^.  It  is  a  question  of 
the  might  and  majesty  of  law.  It  is  whether  the  law, 
or  the  opinion  of  a  few  persons  concerning  the  law,  is 
the  stronger,  the  more  powerful,  the  more  worthy  of 
respect.  The  time  may  come  when  we  shall  consider 
capital  punishment  a  relic  of  barbarism  ;  but  it  is  not 
yet  so  considered.  We  are  to  act,  not  according  to  a 
standard  of  civilization  which  may  be  set  up  a  hun- 


370        SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

dred  years  from  to-day,  but  according  to  the  standard 
of  to-day.  To-day  capital  punishment,  imprisonment 
for  life,  imprisonment  for  longer  or  shorter  terms, 
are  the  penalties  appointed  by  our  highest  legal 
authorities  for  certain  crimes.  There  are  equally 
authoritative  modes  for  administering  these  punish- 
ments. Are  these  laws  to  be  executed,  or  are  they 
to  be  set  aside  on  purely  sentimental  or  positively 
immoral  pretexts?  The  severity  of  the  laws  is  not  in 
question :  if  it  were,  we  might  say  that  one*  assault 
with  intent  to  kill  is  enough  to  condemn  a  man  to 
restraint  for  the  rest  of  his  life  ;  that  unconditional 
liberty  after  a  second  similar  assault  is  an  outrage 
upon  the  honest  and  peaceable ;  that  it  is  only,  if  at 
all,  less  than  murder  in  the  first  degree  to  send  a  man 
who  has  twice  attempted  the  life  of  his  fellows  forth 
upon  the  world,  after  four  and  a  half  years  of  con- 
finement, to  beat  down  to  agony  and  defilement  and 
death  a  helpless  and  unoffending  woman. 

It  is  simply  this  :  if  the  law  has  an}r  dignity,  let  it  be 
executed.  If  it  has  none,  let  it  be  repealed,  but  let  it 
not  be  tampered  with.  Capital  punishment  may  or 
ma}'  not  be  wise  ;  but  so  long  as  it  is  the  punishment 
prescribed  by  the  law,  for  murder,  let  it  be  enforced. 
Imprisonment  may  or  may  not  be  wise  ;  but,  so  long  as 
it  is  the  law  of  the  land,  let  it  be  inflicted  in  exactly 
such  measure  as  the  law  imposes,  and  not  be  curtailed 


THE  SIGHING  OF  THE  PRISONER.  371 

or  meddled  with  by  irresponsible  agents.  Theorists 
may  think,  that,  because  a  man  is  orderly  under  con- 
finement, he  will  be  orderly  when  set  at  liberty ;  but 
they  should  be  refrained  from  trying  the  experiment  on 
their  own  account.  There  is  no  clamor  for  blood ; 
there  is  no  frenzy  for  revenge :  but  there  is  the  cry 
of  weakness  for  protection,  of  suffering  for  justice,  of 
assailed  innocence  for  the  law  inviolable  and  inviolate. 


FAIR  PLAY. 


FAIR  PLAY. 

|0  extol  the  weakness  of  the  strong  as  strength 
is  as  injurious  as  to  make  a  mock  at  sin. 
To  overlay  Nature  with  religious  phraseology 
is  not  to  regenerate  or  to  consecrate  Nature. 

In  a  little  book  published  by  the  Tract  Society, 
called  "Lady  Huntingdon  and  her  Friends,"  there  is 
a  remarkable  commingling  and  confusion  of  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit  and  the  fruits  of  the  flesh. 

For  instance,  an  extract  is  made  from  a  letter  of 
the  "  unhappy  Lady  Marlborough.' ' 

"  Your  concern  for  my  religious  improvement  is  very  obli- 
ging. God  knows  we  all  need  mending,  and  none  more  than 
myself.  .  .  .  I  have  no  comfort  in  my  own  family;  and,  when 
alone,  my  reflections  almost  kill  me,  so  that  I  am  forced  to  fly  to 
the  society  of  those  whom  I  detest  and  abhor.  Now,  there  is 
Lady  Frances  Sanderson's  great  rout  to-morrow  night.  ...  I 
do  hate  that  woman  as  much  as  I  hate  a  physician;  but  I  must 
go,  if  for  no  other  purpose  but  to  mortify  and  spite  her.  This 
is  very  wicked,  I  know." 

"This,  then,"  moralizes  the  biographer,  "tears 
away  the  trappings  of  wealth  and  station,  and  startles 

375 


376        SERMONS  TO  TEE   CLERGY. 

us  by  a  sight  of  the  bad  passions  which  lie  cankering 
beneath.  Let  it  be  contrasted  with  the  freshness  and 
beaut}r  of  the  believer's  life.,, 

' '  What  blessed  effects  does  the  love  of  God  pro- 
duce in  the  hearts  of  those  who  abide  in  him !  "  writes 
Lady  Huntingdon  to  Charles  Wesle}\  ' '  How  solid  is 
the  peace,  and  how  divine  the  joy  !  "  &c. 

But,  as  we  go  on  in  the  book,  we  find  that  these 
very  hearts  display  qualities  more  akin  to  those  of  the 
unhappy  Lady  Marlborough  than  this  solid  peace  and 
joy.  The  Dissenting  churches  received  the  new 
preachers  with  indifference  and  bitterness.  Doddridge 
was  severely  censured  by  his  brethren.  Angry  and 
threatening  letters  were  sent  to  him  from  various 
quarters.  Then  the  new  preachers  themselves  began 
to  quarrel.  "  The  breach  widened  between  Wesley 
and  Whitefield,,,  says  the  biographer;  "  for  on  both 
sides  there  were  friends  and  followers  who  fanned  the 
flame.  .  .  .  Their  counsels  divided,  and  their  ranks 
broken,  there  seemed  to  be  a  weak  betrayal  of  their 
Master's  cause."  "A  bitter  household  squabble,'* 
the  contest  is  called.  When  the  churches  in  connec- 
tion with  Mr.  Wesley  held  their  twent3T-seventh  annual 
conference  in  London,  it  "  gave  birth  to  a  controversy, 
perhaps  one  of  the  hottest,  and  most  barren  of  spoils, 
in  the  annals  of  Protestant  theology.  It  was  a  kin- 
dling of  the  old  flames  that  so  nearly  consumed  the 


FAIR  PLAY  377 

friendship  of  Wesley  and  Whitefield  more  than  twenty 
years  before."  Lady  Huntingdon  took  sides  "  with  an 
honest  though  hast}'  warmth."  "  However  powerful 
may  have  been  the  arguments  wielded  on  either  side, 
tools,  also,  of  a  sharper  point  were  freely  used.  Acri- 
monious and  intemperate  expressions  were  hurled  back 
and  forth.  Both  parties,  instead  of  convincing  or  re- 
treating, were  driven  to  the  extremes  of  their  own  prin- 
ciples, and  made  unguarded  assertions  of  themselves 
and  their  opponents,  the  effect  of  which  was  to  alien- 
ate the  hearts  of  Christian  brethren,  .  .  .  and  widen 
the  breach  between  those  who  really  loved  the  Lord." 

Nor  were  Lady  Huntingdon's  differences  with  her 
friends  limited  to  theological  matters.  When  Row- 
land Hill  started  in  his  career,  she  "  received  the 
ardent  and  self-forgetting  young  man  with  an  open 
heart,  and  gave  him  a  cordial  welcome  beneath  her 
roof.  Subsequently  a  coolness  seems  to  have  sprung 
up  between  them.  Though  mutually  respecting  each 
other,  and  mutually  wishing  each  other  God-speed  in 
separate  paths  of  usefulness,  they  do  not  appear  to 
have  wrought  harmoniously  together."  In  short,  not 
to  put  too  fine  a  point  on  it,  Lady  Huntingdon  abso- 
lutely refused  to  let  him  preach  in  her  chapel. 

Now,  I  submit  that  it  is  entirely  unfair  to  set  over 
against  Lady  Marlborough's  frank  and  witty  badinage 
the  cheap,  pious  reflections  of  Lady  Huntingdon.  I 
32* 


378  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

sny  cheap,  because  tkejr  are  worth  absolutely  nothing 
but  the  paper  and  ink  they  are  written  with.  The 
proper  comparison  is  not  between  the  bad  passions  of 
the  world  and  the  freshness  and  beauty  of  the 
believer's  life,  but  between  the  bad  passions  of  the 
world  and  the  bad  passions  of  the  believer.  To  take 
the  world  at  its  bad,  and  the  Church  at  its  best,  will 
never  give  us  just  views.  Yet,  so  far  as  we  see  from 
this  book,  it  is  the  only  way  to  give  the  Church  the 
desired  superiority.  I  cannot  see  that  tearing  away 
the  trappings  of  wealth  and  station  reveals  the 
cankering  of  worse  passions  than  a  tearing-away  of 
the  trappings  of  ecclesiasticism  and  theology.  Lady 
Marlborough's  simple  hatred  of  Lady  Frances  Sander- 
son seems  no  deeper  or  more  bitter  than  the  twenty- 
years'  quarrel  of  the  churches  over  divine  sovereignty 
and  electing  grace.  Lady  Marlborough  calls  a  spade 
a  spade ;  while  the  religious  biographer  calls  it  "an 
acrimonious  and  intemperate  expression."  I  confess 
I  like  the  spade  best.  Can  wealth  and  station  do  any 
worse  thing  than  make  ' '  unguarded  assertions  of  them- 
selves and  their  opponents  "  ?  They  would  proba- 
bly call  it  by  the  ugiy  names  of  lying  and  slander ; 
but  it  would  be  very  much  the  same  thing  at  bottom. 
Lady  Marlborough  hated  Lady  Frances,  but  went  to 
her  rout,  and,  no  doubt,  spake  her  peaceably. 
Whitefield   and  Wesley   ' '  loved   each    other ;  ' '    but 


FAIR  PLAY.  379 

their  "friendship"  was  "clouded;"  and  Whitefield 
wrote  in  a  "recriminating  tone,"  and  Wesley  took 
possession  of  Whitefield's  Kings  wood  School,  and 
drove  his  "spiritual  children"  into  "a  temporary 
shed  "  for  shelter.  One  said,  I  will  not,  but  after- 
wards he  repented  and  went ;  and  the  other  said,  I 
go,  sir,  and  went  not.  The  world's  hatred  cankers 
no  more  than  the  Church's  love.  If  you  are  reckless, 
implacable,  slanderous,  what  difference  does  it  make 
whether  you  are  quarrelling  over  divine  sovereignty, 
or  ball-room  precedence  ? 

On  one  occasion,  Lady  Huntingdon  sent  for  a  dis- 
tinguished revival  preacher  to  spend  a  few  weeks  in 
her  "  fields."  His  reply  is  any  thing  but  complimen- 
tary to  his  flock,  any  thing  but  indicative  of  blessed 
effects  in  their  hearts. 

"  I  am  determined,"  he  says,  "  not  to  quit  my 
charge  again  in  a  hurry.  Never  do  I  leave  my  bees 
(though  for  a  short  space,  only),  but,  on  my  return,  I 
find  them  either  casting,  or  colting,  or  fighting,  and 
robbing  each  other ;  not  gathering  honey  from  every 
flower  of  God's  garden,  but  filling  the  air  with  their 
buzzings,  and  darting  out  the  venom  of  their  little 
hearts  in  their  fiery  stings.  Najr,  so  inflamed  they 
often  are,  and  a  mighty  little  thing  disturbs  them, 
that  three  months'  tinkling  afterward  with  a  warming- 
pan  will  scarce  hive  them  at  last,  and  make  them 
settle  to  work  again." 


380  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

Certainly  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough  does  not 
show  off  badly  against  the  freshness  and  beauty  of 
these  believers'  life. 

No  one  disputes  that  Lady  Huntingdon  and  her 
friends  were  sincere  Christians,  and  served  God,  and 
wrought  righteousness,  in  their  day  and  generation ; 
and  if  their  biographers  would  be  content  with  point- 
ing out  the  good  Vney  attained  and  executed,  we  would 
not  complain,  even  though  their  defects  were  hidden. 
But  when  their  imperfections  are  softened  with  sacred 
phrase,  and  the  imperfections  of  the  world  set  forth  in 
glaring  colors,  the  instinctive  sense  of  justice  rises  in 
revolt.  Not  by  such  help  is  the  kingdom  of  God  to 
be  advanced. 

Lady  Huntingdon  and  her  chaplains,  says  her  biog- 
rapher, often  journeyed  during  the  summer,  making 
their  presence  a  means  of  religious  revival  wherever 
they  went.  "  There  is  something  grand  and  beautiful 
in  the  laborious  and  unselfish  ministrations  of  the  band 
of  preachers  who  thus  went  out  into  the  highways  and 
hedges  of  England,  publishing  the  gospel  message  as 
if  fresh  from  Christ  and  Calvary."  One  of  these  jour- 
neys, "though  undertaken  for  the  countess's  health, 
seems  really  to  have  been  a  home-missionary  tour. 
Returning  again  to  society,  Lady  Huntingdon  may  be 
seen  journeying  through  Wales.  .  .  .  Is  it  a  jaunt  of 
pleasure,  a  tour  of  aimless  excitement,  a  seeing  of  new 


FAIR  PLAY.  381 

things  for  the  sake  of  killing  time  ?  We  now  find  her 
travelling  in  different  countries,  following  up  with 
her  presence  the  labors  of  her  missionaries,  inspecting 
her  chapels,  investigating  the  doings  of  trustees  and 
committees,  regulating  salaries,  directing  funds,  coun- 
selling, controlling,  and  encouraging,  with  an  unspent 
force  of  mind  which  was  marvellous  to  behold." 

What  we  wish  to  get  at,  in  all  history,  personal  and 
national,  is  things  as  the}'  are.  That  Lady  Huntingdon 
was  a  woman  of  remarkable  energy,  ability,  and  excel- 
lence ;  born  for  command,  and  not  for  subordination ; 
of  a  masculine  force  of  character,  not  to  be  suppressed 
even  by  English  conventionality ;  of  an  executive 
ability,  guided  by  Christian  principle,  and  seldom  sur- 
passed either  in  man  or  woman,  — this  book  indicates, 
and  these  journeys  illustrate.  But  that  there  was  any 
thing  noticeably  unselfish  in  the  ministrations  of  this 
band  of  preachers,  that  there  was  an}-  self-denial  in 
these  home-missionary  tours,  that  they  were,  in  any 
respect,  not  jaunts  of  pleasure,  it  is  difficult  to  see. 
They  were  something  besides  pleasure-tours  ;  but 
surely  the}'  were  pleasure-tours.  The  biographer, 
unconsciously  no  doubt,  uses  the  common  "question 
fallacy  "  in  the  form  of  interrogation,  as  if  a  pleasure- 
tour  and  a  tour  for  killing  time  were  one  and  the  same 
thing.  But  let  us  look  at  Lady  Huntingdon's  journeys. 
"  The  party  is  large,  composed  of  her  two  daughters, 


332        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

her  sisters  (Anne  and  Frances  Hastings),  several 
clergymen,  and  other  religious  friends."  One  of  these 
clergymen  was  Griffith  Jones,  a  popular  preacher, 
whose  "  very  presence  was  like  the  ringing  of  the 
sabbath-bells  for  the  people  to  come  and  hear." 
Another  was  Howell  Harris,  so  popular  that  he  had  to 
form  his  followers  into  societies.  Another  of  her 
clique  was  Whiten" eld,  who  could  hardly  make  his 
way  along  the  crowded  aisles  to  the  reading-desk,  and 
who  had  to  leave  Bristol  secretly,  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  to  avoid  the  ceremony  of  being  escorted  by 
horsemen  and  coaches,  and  whom  crowds  went  to  hear 
so  early  in  the  morning  that  the  streets  were  filled 
with  people  carrying  lanterns,  —  a  man  of  remarkable 
grace,  fair  complexion,  dark-blue  e}7es,  and  uncommon 
sweetuess  both  of  voice  and  countenance.  Would  a 
journey  with  such  a  party  make  a  special  draught' 
upon  disinterestedness?  On  their  preaching- tours, 
these  men,  and  such  as  these,  addressed  immense 
crowds  from  all  the  country  round  about.  So  far  from 
requiring  unselfishness,  this  jaunting  was  exactly  what 
Lady  Huntingdon  liked.  She  had  her  family,  her 
friends,  her  ministers  ;  and  she  ruled  the  whole  cara- 
van. She  was  the  mother-superior.  She  was  to  them 
"good  Lad}*  Huntingdon."  They  stole  her  hymns 
and  sang  them.  They  drank  her  health.  They 
sounded  and  resounded  her  praises.     They  preached  in 


FAIR  PLAT.  383 

her  parlors.  They  took  orders  from  her  and  reported 
progress  to  her.  A  jaunt  of  pleasure,  indeed !  Im- 
agine a  handsome,  high-spirited,  well-born  American 
widow,  of  ample  means  and  fine  mind,  making  up  a 
party  to  the  Yellowstone.  She  invites,  first,  her  pretty 
and  agreeable  daughters ;  then  her  sisters,  who  have 
been  belles  and  beauties  in  their  day  and  are  still  held 
in  high  consideration  ;  then,  let  us  say,  Prof.  Barbour, 
unhappily  now  of  Bangor,  to  the  long  lament  of 
Massachusetts  ;  and  Mr.  George  Field,  snatched  also 
from  Boston  to  the  benighted  realms  of  Maine  ;  and 
Dr.  Swing,  and  Mr.  Beecher ;  and  as  many  other 
friends  as  she  likes ;  and  she  keeps  them  all  well  in 
hand  :  and  we  talk  of  unselfishness.  They  may  preach 
seven  times  a  week,  or  seventy  times  seven,  and  call  it 
a  missionary  tour,  if  it  so  pleases  them  ;  but  their  rose 
by  any  other  name  is  just  as  sweet.  Lady  Huntingdon 
loved  large  affairs.  She  loved  to  organize  and  super- 
intend and  direct.  She  loved  company  and  excite- 
ment and  respect  and  deference.  She  could  not 
content  herself  with  the  quiet,  humdrum  domestic  and 
social  life  which  occupies  most  women,  and  with  which 
many  women  are  forced  to  be  content.  Like  the 
resolute,  capable,  and  virtuous,  nay,  splendid  woman 
that  she  was,  she  moulded  life  to  her  likings  as  well 
as  her  uses  :  she  found  a  sphere  for  her  powers :  she 
ordered  men  about   in  a  way  that  it  is  refreshing  to 


384  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

read  of.  She  fulfilled  her  mission  ;  but  she  fulfilled  it 
exactly  as  Charlotte  Bronte  fulfilled  hers  when  she 
wrote  "Jane  Eyre,"  and  as  Mrs.  Siddons  fulfilled 
hers  on  the  stage,  and  Christine  Nillsson  hers  with  her 
voice,  and  another  woman  hers  in  the  forever  unveiled 
seclusion  of  her  kitchen  and  nursery.  I  see  no  more 
reason  for  attributing  unselfishness  and  denying  pleas- 
ure to  Lacly  Huntingdon  than  to  Jeniry  Lind.  To  go 
off  on  a  journey  with  her  family  and  friends,  and  half 
a  dozen  popular  preachers,  all  training  in  her  compairy, 
is  a  cross  which  the  most  selfish  woman  would  gladly 
take  up.  We  have  only  to  look  upon  Lady  Hunting- 
don and  her  people  as  human  beings,  who  were  hungry 
and  thirsty,  and  gay  and  gallant,  as  well  as  pious ; 
who  were  perfectly  familiar  with  the  advantages  of 
good  birth  and  breeding,  as  well  as  of  gospel  privi- 
leges, —  and  all  things  become  simple  and  natural. 
The3T  were  no  anchorites  ;  for  at  Mr.  Nimmo's  they 
drank  her  health  every  day  ;  and  that  means  wines  and 
meats  and  desserts  and  luxurious  living.  No  doubt 
the  Ladies  Hastings  "  hungered  for  the  living  manna," 
and  the  preacher's  "  words  fell  upon  good  ground," 
and  Lady  Margaret  "  embraced  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  ;  "  but,  all  the  same,  it  remains  that  the  preach- 
er's marriage  with  the  earl's  daughter  was  a  very 
brilliant  match  for  him  ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
Rev.  Benjamin  Ingham   saw   it  just   as  plainly,  and 


FAIR  PLAT.  385 

enjoyed  his  courtship  just  as  young-manfully,  as  if  he 
had  not  been  "leading  her  to  the  Saviour"  while 
leading  her  to  himself. 

The  laborious  and  unselfish  ministrations  of  these 
peripatetic  preachers  do  not  seem  to  me  one-half  so 
striking,  so  laborious,  or  so  unselfish,  as  the  minis- 
trations of  those  preachers  who  stay  at  home.  Nov- 
elt3r,  excitement,  irresponsibilit}T,  adulation,  even  op- 
position, stimulate  them.  But  to  stay  in  one  place, 
among  people  who  are  perfectly  used  to  you,  and  ham- 
mer away  at  the  same  old  sins,  with  the  same  old 
truths,  and  yet  strike  fire,  —  that  is  work. 

Let  us  call  things  by  their  right  names.  We  do 
what  we  like,  and  it  is  not  self-denying  because  it  hap- 
pens to  be  beneficial.  The  choice  we  make  is  not 
unselfish  because  it  pleases  others,  any  more  than  it  is 
selfish  because  it  pleases  ourselves. 

"Lady  Huntingdon,"  says  her  biographer,  "had 
been  exemplary  as  a  wife  and  mother,  and  free  from 
the  corruptions  of  fashionable  society,"  even  before 
she  became  technically  a  Christian. 

We  must  not  corrupt  society,  even  for  the  sake  of 
making  a  foil  to  Lady  Huntingdon's  purity.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-one  she  was  married  to  the  Earl  of 
Huntingdon,  who  is  mentioned  as  "  a  man  of  high  and 
exemplary  character."  "He  was  sincere,  just,  and 
upright:  he  was  courteous,  considerate,  and  chari- 
33 


386  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

table.  ...  In  the  stately  household,  no  earthly  good 
was  withholden,  nor  were  earthly  blessings  abused  by 
riot  or  excess.  Dignity,  sobriety,  and  refinement 
presided  over  the  homes  and  halls  of  the  earl.  Lord 
Huntingdon  had  several  sisters,  whose  thoughtful  cast 
of  mind  made  them  particularly  welcome  to  his  house. 
In  them  Lady  Huntingdon  had  found  kindred  spirits. 
The  earl  was  a  man  of  unblemished  character ;  and, 
though  not  a  believer  in  the  distinctive  theology  of  his 
wife,  he  courteously  entertained  her  religious  friends." 
Here  then  was  a  whole  family  (and  the  only 
family  to  whom  we  are  fairly  introduced)  in  the  first 
and  most  fashionable  circles,  maintaining  as  good  a 
reputation  as  it  is  possible  to  find  in  the  most  devout 
of  religious  circles.  Whatever  we  may  say  about  frames 
of  mind,  states  of  heart,  words  of  the  lips,  no  one 
can  be  any  thing  better  than  sincere,  just,  upright, 
courteous,  considerate,  charitable,  exemplary.  As  we 
meet  incidentally  other  members  of  this  same  fashion- 
able society,  we  are  not  altogether  unfavorably  im- 
pressed. They  thronged  her  house  to  hear  Whitefield 
preach,  and,  having  heard  him  once,  desired  to  come 
again.  Lord  Bolingbroke  was  moved,  and  asked 
Whitefield  to  come  and  see  him  the  next  morning  ; 
and  "  Whitefield  used  the  current  compliments  of 
address  common  to  that  period,  —  more  fulsome  then 
than  now."    Lord  Bolingbroke  "  heartily  despised  the 


FAIR  PLAT.  387 

gospel,  yet  affected  to  reverence  it ; "  which  was  cer- 
tainly good-humored  and  civil.  He  also  "  desires  his 
compliments  and  thanks  to  Dr.  Doddridge,  and  hopes 
he  shall  continue  to  deserve  his  good  opinion." 

So  it  seems  he  had  deserved  it.  Lord  Huntingdon, 
the  son,  had  a  dislike  to  religion;  but  he  was  "most 
tender,  respectful,  and  kind  to  his  mother,"  as  well  as 
"interesting,  elegant,  and  accomplished"  in  corrupt 
society.  Lord  Chesterfield  used  a  "polished  sarcasm" 
toward  the  faith ;  but  he  offered  his  chapel  to  Lady 
Huntingdon's  chaplain  during  their  summer  tours  ;  and, 
"  at  Lady  Huntingdon's  solicitations,  he  often  contrib- 
uted to  the  cause  of  Christ,"  though  it  would  seem  as 
if  delicac}^  could  not  have  asked  him  to  contribute  to 
a  cause  in  which  he  did  not  believe.  Surely  here 
the  worldly  gentleman  shows  to  better  advantage  than 
the  Christian  lady.  "He  had  been  the  early  friend 
and  companion  of  Earl  Huntingdon,  after  whose  death 
he  seems  always  to  have  remained  on  a  friendly  foot- 
ing with  the  countess.  Toward  the  3'oung  earl  we 
find  him  acting  as  toward  an  adopted  son,  — a  circum- 
stance which  Lady  Huntingdon  is  presumed  not  to 
have  been  able  to  control,  and  which  must  have 
occasioned  her  no  little  sorrow." 

Not  quite  so  fast,  if  you  please,  worthy  biographer. 
Your  facts  and  }rour  presumptions,  and  your  forced 
inferences,  are  commingled  too  precipitately.     It  was, 


388  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

surely,  not  a  bad  trait,  even  in  a"  corrupt"  man,  to 
act  the  part  of  father  to  his  dead  friend's  son.  Nor 
was  Lacly  Huntingdon,  with  all  her  devotion,  in  the 
least  insensible  to  the  advantages  of  birth  and  position. 
She  and  Mr.  Whitefield  were  quite  aware  when  the 
' '  great  ones "  heard  them  patiently.  She  got  her 
daughter  a  place  at  court ;  and  her  subsequent  marriage 
to  the  Earl  of  Moira  "  seems  to  have  given  much 
satisfaction.''  Another  daughter's  honor,  in  being 
appointed  one  of  six  to  help  Princess  Augusta  bear  the 
train  of  Queen  Charlotte  on  her  coronation  day,  was 
sufficiently  appreciated  to  pass  into  histoiy.  Her 
marriage  with  Col.  George  Hastings  was  much  ap- 
proved by  her  mother ;  and  at  Paris  the  eldest  son, 
just  become  of  age,  "  is  warmly  greeted  by  the  most 
distinguished  English  residents,  particularly,  intro- 
duced, as  he  is,  by  Lord  Chesterfield."  With  Lord 
Cnesterfield  remaining  on  friendly  terms  with  Lady 
Huntingdon  all  his  life,  and  pa3ring  her  compliments, 
and  at  her  solicitation,  and  in  most  polite  phrase, 
contributing  to  her  cause,  in  which  he  had  no  faith,  I 
see  not  a  particle  of  evidence  that  his  friendship  to  her 
son  was  to  the  mother  a  source  of  sorrow,  or  a  thing 
which  she  had  any  wish  to  hinder. 

Other  most  exemplary  friends  of  Lady  Huntingdon 
in  this  corrupt,  fashionable  society  seem  to  have  been 
Lord  and  Lady  Glenarchy,  "just  returned  from   the 


FAIR  PLAY.  389 

gayeties  and  excitement  of  a  Continental  tour,"  and 
Lord  and  Lady  Sutherland,  of  whom  Lady  Huntingdon 
says,  "  Never  have  I  seen  a  more  lovely  couple. 
Although  they  have  not  yet  been  led  to  « the  fountain 
of  living  waters,'  they  may,  indeed,  with  justice,  be 
called  the  flower  of  Scotland." 

In  short,  while  we  declaim,  in  general  terms,  on  the 
frivolity  and  vanity  of  fashionable  society,  a  close 
acquaintance  with  it  reveals  about  the  same  proportion 
of  excellence  that  is  found  in  any  societ}\  As  we  meet 
its  members  in  these  pages,  they  by  no  means  bear  out 
the  charge  of  corruption  so  lightly  and  easily  made. 

Let  us  glance  at  the  societ}r  of  Lady  Huntingdon's 
liking.  "  Her  princely  mansions  were  open  with  a 
tireless  hospitality  to  every  one  who  loved  her  Lord." 
But  is  that  the  true  principle  of  hospitality ?  "If  3'e 
love  them  which  love  3-ou,  what  reward  have  ye?" 
This  is  not  a  strict  statement  of  fact ;  but  it  is  as 
pertinent  as  if  it  were.  Lad}7  Huntingdon  did  open 
her  house  to  those  who  did  not  love  her  Lord  ;  but  her 
biographer  seems  not  to  think  that  counts  for  any  thing 
in  the  general  summing-up.  "  During  the  lifetime  of 
the  earl,  Lady  Huntingdon's  time  was  necessarily 
engrossed  by  many  cares,  which  withheld  her  from  the 
friends  and  the  interests  which  lay  nearest  her  heart." 
But  what  right  had  she,  the  wife  of  a  man  of  un- 
blemished  character  and  chivalrous   courtesy,  to  any 


390  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

friends  nearer  her  heart  than  her  husband,  to  any 
interests  more  close  than  his?  A  pretty  religion  that, 
in  whose  path  a  high-minded  husband  is  a  hinderance  ! 
u  As  mistress  of  his  princely  mansion,  she  had  duties 
to  general  society  which  could  not  be  slighted. 
Respect  and  affection  for  him  controlled  her  private 
preferences ;  and,  without  making  her  dislo}'al  to  her 
religious  convictions,  blended  her  interests  with  his 
own.  The  tie  is  now  broken ;  .  .  .  and  henceforth 
we  find  unfolding  that  loft}-  cnerg}r  of  character  which 
has  identified  her  name  with  the  revived  Christianity 
of  her  day."  A  revival,  it  is  significant  to  remember, 
in  which  her  husband  and  her  son  did  not  share. 

And  how  did  Lady  Huntingdon  reconstruct  society 
when  her  husband  was  no  longer  alive  to  restrain  the 
indulgence  of  her  private  preferences?  Chielly  on 
a  basis  of  preaching,  one  would  sa}\  Certainly  the 
amount  she  underwent  was  appalling.  Not  content 
with  her  tours  and  her  chapels,  she  was  constantly  hav- 
ing sermons  in  her  own  house.  "Ashby  Place,"  one 
of  her  homes,  writes  Whitcfield,  "is  like  a  bethel. 
We  have  the  sacrament  eveiy  morning,  heavenl}'  con- 
versation all  day,  and  preaching  all  night."  There  is 
no  disputing  about  tastes  ;  but  certainly  this  seems  too 
much  of  a  good  thing  for  a  stead}',  well-balanced  life. 
Surely  any  conversation  carried  on  all  da}*,  and  da}' 
after  day,  would  cease  to  be  heavenly.     With  "five 


FAIR  PLAY.  391 

clergymen  beneath  her  hospitable  roof,"  and  an  indefi- 
nite number  of  dear  Lady  Fannys  and  Amies  and 
Bettys,  they  appear  all  to  have  been  in  a  state  of  un- 
mitigated happiness.  Women  are  good  by  nature,  and 
clergymen  are  good  by  grace  ;  but  it  seems  as  if  their 
religion  would  have  been  more  nervous,  sinewy,  and 
commanding,  more  effective,  perhaps,  upon  the  hus- 
band and  son,  if  a  few  brawny  sinners  had  been  let  in 
upon  them,  speaking  the  language  of  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil,  and  permitting,  not  to  say  com- 
pelling, religion  and  infidelity  to  put  off  their  fine 
array,  and  meet  in  a  real  hand-to-hand  combat.  But 
the  church  sang  songs  over  the  harpsichord,  and  talked 
heavenly  talk  all  da}r  in  the  drawing-rooms ;  and  the 
world  indulged  in  "polished  sarcasm"  and  "severe 
denunciation ' '  outside  ;  and  both  interchanged  fulsome 
personal  compliment ;  and  ' ;  Lord  Huntingdon  died  as 
he  had  lived  ; ' '  and  around  the  dying  moments  of  Lord 
Chesterfield  "  the  blackness  of  darkness,  accompanied 
by  every  gloomy  horror,  thickened  most  awfully  ; ' '  and 
Horace  Walpole  scoffed  to  the  bitter  end. 

With  a  resolute  endeavor  to  have  the  sheep  distinctly 
arranged  on  one  side,  and  the  goats  on  the  other,  even 
in  this  world,  Lady  Huntingdon's  biographer  tells  us, 
that,  in  1773,  she  "  lost  two  friends  with  whom  she  had 
been  long  and  differently  associated,  —  that  indefatiga- 
ble servant  of  God,  Howell  Harris,"  and,  as  Wesley 


392  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

would  call  him,  that  servant  of  the  Devil,  Lord  Ches- 
terfield. The  biographer  is  not  content  to  compare 
the  lives  of  these  two  men,  but  dutifully  and  formally 
follows  the  footsteps  of  Lady  Huntingdon,  and  con- 
trasts their  deaths  as  an  argument  regarding  their 
creeds.  Let  us,  therefore,  look  at  it  a  little  more 
closely. 

"  That  indefatigable  servant  of  God,"  writes  Lady 
Huntingdon  to  Romaine,  "  Howell  Harris,  fell  asleep  in 
Jesus  last  week.  When  he  was  confined  to  his  bed, 
and  could  no  longer  preach  or  exhort,  he  said,  '  Blessed 
be  God,  my  work  is  done,  and  I  know  that  I  am  going 
to  nry  God  and  Father,  for  he  hath  my  heart,  }ea,  my 
whole  heart.  Glor}'  be  to  God  !  death  hath  no  sting  : 
all  is  well.'  And  thus  this  good  man  went  home  to 
his  rest. 

"In  contrast  with  the  death  of  Howell  Harris  stands 
that  of  Lord  Chesterfield.  '  Death '  he  declared  to  be 
4  a  leap  in  the  dark ; '  and  dark  and  dreadful  did  he 
find  the  leap  to  be.  As  the  pains  of  dissolving  nature 
increased  upon  him,  and  human  help  was  vain,  his  cold 
and  mocking  scepticism  could  offer  neither  present 
alleviations  nor  future  hope.  '  The  blackness  of  dark- 
ness, accompanied  hy  every  gloomy  horror,  thickened 
most  awfully  around  his  dying  moments,'  says  Lady 
Huntingdon." 

But  what  is  the  biographer's  authority  for  her  state- 


FAIR  PLAT.  393 

ments?  and  what  is  Lady  Huntingdon's  idea  of 
horror?  I  distrust  both  as  witnesses.  Both  seem  to 
judge  by  shibboleth.  I  find  no  account  of  Lord 
Chesterfield's  death-bed  shrouded  in  gloomy  horror, 
except  in  Lady  Huntingdon's  letter.  Lord  Mahon 
says  he  "retained  his  presence  of  mind  to  his  latest 
breath.  .  .  .  His  dissolution  had  not  been  thought  so 
close  at  hand ;  and  his  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Day- 
rolles,  had  called  to  see  him  only  half  an  hour  before 
it  happened ;  when  the  earl  from  his  bed  gasped  out, 
in  a  faint  voice,  to  his  valet-de-chambre,  '  Give  Day- 
rolles  a  chair.1  His  physician,  Dr.  Warren,  who  was 
present  afterward,  expressed  himself  as  much  struck 
at  these  the  last  words  he  was  heard  to  speak.  '  His 
good  breeding,'  said  Dr.  Warren,  l  only  quits  him 
with  his  life.' " 

It  seems  to  me  that  Lady  Huntingdon  unconsciously 
transferred  to  Lord  Chesterfield  her  own  feeling  about 
him,  and  attributes  to  him  the  sensations  she  imagines 
she  should  herself  feel,  were  she,  with  her  convictions, 
in  his  situation ;  which  is  not  unnatural,  but  is  cer- 
tainly not  biographical.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  he 
could  not  frame  to  pronounce  her  shibboleth,  the  polite 
lord's  death-bed  does  not  contrast  unfavorably  with  the 
Christian  minister's.  The  latter  is  -chiefly  concerned 
with  himself:  the  former  cares  for  the  comfort  of  his 
friend.     But   kindly   service  is   as  likely  to   contain 


394        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

the  essence  of  Christian  religion  as  the  most  fluent 
self-gratulation.  It  may  be  said  that  Mr.  Harris  had 
more  cause  for  self-gratulation  than  had  Lord  Chester- 
field. Mr.  Harris  was  a  preacher,  and,  if  we  may 
believe  his  admirers,  was  a  faithful  and  effective 
preacher.  Of  his  private  life  we  know  little  or  noth- 
ing, nor  of  his  public  life  any  thing  not  told  by  his 
admirers.  Lord  Chesterfield  is  held  up  to  view  by 
friend  and  foe ;  yet,  in  spite  of  all  his  faults,  we  find 
him  in  his  will,  finished  on  the  February  preceding  his 
death  in  June,  writing,  "  I  most  humbly  recommend 
my  soul  to  the  extensive  mercy  of  that  Eternal, 
Supreme,  Intelligent  Being  who  gave  it  me,  most 
earnestry,  at  the  same  time,  deprecating  his  justice." 
I  do  not  find  Lord  Chesterfield's  humility  less  impres- 
sive than  Howell  Harris's  confidence. 

For  his  life-work  we  are  told,  that  in  the  outset,  in 
his  first  embassy  to  Holland,  he  displayed  great  skill, 
and  attained  universal  reputation ;  that  his  second 
embassy  confirmed  and  renewed  the  praises  he  had 
acquired  by  the  first ;  that  Sir  Watkin  "Wynn,  though 
neither  his  partisan  nor  personal  friend,  said  that  he 
"  had  a  head  to  contrive,  a  tongue  to  persuade,  and  a 
hand  to  execute,  any  worthy  action  ;  "  that  his  career 
deserves  the  praise  of  humane,  liberal,  and  far-sighted 
polic}'.  After  the  rebellion,  while  all  his  colleagues 
thought  only  of  measures  of  repression,  the  dungeon, 


FAIR  PLAT.  395 

or  the  scaffold,  disarming-acts  and  abolition-acts, 
Chesterfield  was  for  schools  and  villages  to  civilize  the 
Highlands.  His  course  as  Lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland 
was  brilliantly  useful.  He  was  the  first  since  the  revo- 
lution who  made  that  office  a  post  of  active  exertion. 
He  left  nothing  undone,  nothing  for  others  to  do.  He 
was  the  first  to  introduce  at  Dublin  the  principle  of 
impartial  justice.  He  proscribed  no  one,  and  was  gov- 
erned by  none.  His  measures  were  so  able,  he  so 
clearly  impressed  upon  the  public  mind  that  his  moder- 
ation was  not  weakness,  nor  his  clemency  cowardice,  he 
so  well  knew  how  to  scare  the  timid,  and  conciliate  the 
generous,  that  he  soothed  even  the  turbulence  of  Ire- 
land into  a  greater  tranquillity  than  her  settled  and 
orderly  periods  often  show.  His  administration  was  so 
wise  and  just,  that  his  authority  was  appealed  to,  even 
by  those  who  departed  most  widely  from  his  maxims  ; 
and  his  name  lives  in  the  honored  remembrance  of  the 
Irish  people,  as,  perhaps,  next  to  Ormond,  the  best  and 
worthiest  in  their  long  vice-regal  line. 

These  are  the  statements  of  a  biographer  who  has  a 
clear  e}Te  for  Lord  Chesterfield's  defects,  —  so  clear, 
indeed,  that  he  impugns  his  motives,  and  neutralizes 
the  virtue  of  his  acts  by  ascribing  them  all  to  selfish- 
ness. Nevertheless,  it  remains  that  his  public  career, 
with  which  alone  we  are  concerned,  was  as  honorable 
as  that  of  Howell  Harris,  and  I  think  it  is  not  too 


396         SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

much  to  say  more  difficult  and  distinguished.  So  far 
as  his  life-work  is  concerned,  he  would  have  been  as 
much  justified  as  Howell  Harris  in  looking  back  with 
exultation,  and  forward  with  confidence.  Nor  is  it  at 
all  certain  that  Mr.  Harris  was  more  free  from  the 
errors  of  his  profession  and  position  than  was  Lord 
Chesterfield  from  his.  Had  Mr.  Harris  been  as  frank 
or  as  penetrating  as  Lord  Chesterfield  ;  had  he  been  as 
keen,  as  analytic,  and  as  fearless ;  did  we  know  as 
much  about  the  private  life  of  the  one  as  of  the  other, 
—  we  should  be  far  better  able  to  pronounce  judgment 
than  we  now  are.  Mr.  Harris  is  not  to  be  absolved  by 
reason  of  his  freedom  from  Lord  Chesterfield's  sins, 
but  by  his  power  of  resistance  to  his  own  temptations, 
of  which  we  know  nothing. 

•  But  whatever  mtxy  have  been  the  life  of  these  men, 
their  death  does  not  prove,  on  the  one  side,  the  truth  of 
the  Christian  religion,  nor,  on  the  other,  the  fragility  of 
scepticism.  We  ma}r  admit  that  they  died  as  they 
lived ;  and  it  only  remains  that  the  minister  talked 
exultantly  of  himself,  of  what  he  had  done,  and  what 
he  was  to  receive ;  and  the  nobleman  was  to  the  last 
courteous  and  considerate,  —  not  flippantly  and  jesting- 
ly so,  like  Charles  the  Second,  but  with  that  instinct 
of  politeness  which  is  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  Golden  Rule  of  Christ.  Lord  Chesterfield  lived  in 
a  society  which  does  not  think  it  good  manners  to  talk 


FAIR  PLAY.  397 

much  about  yourself,  or  to  display  your  feelings. 
Howell  Harris  lived  in  a  societj'  which  cultivates  ego- 
tism as  a  Christian  dut}'.  Each,  in  truth,  died  as  he 
had  lived.  Mr.  Harris  may  have  been  the  happier 
man.  Self-contemplation  may  be  a  more  satisfactory 
thing  than  consideration  for  others.  Rapturous  antici- 
pation of  the  glories  of  the  next  world  is  a  thrilling 
and  impressive  experience,  compared  to  which  a  quiet 
performance  of  the  little  duties  of  this  is  but  common- 
place. To  feel  that  you  are  deservedly  a  favorite  of 
the  Almighty,  and  have  a  reserved  seat  in  heaven,  must 
give  a  far  more  jubilant  sensation  than  humbly  to  cast 
yourself  upon  the  divine  mercy  with  a  sense  of  ill- 
desert.  So  much  we  can  allow.  Beyond  this  we  may 
not  go.  A  conjecture  cannot  be  permitted  to  do  duty 
as  a  fact.  Edhying  as  it  would  be  to  paint  Lord 
Chesterfield's  departure  from  the  wroiid  in  the  most 
horrid  tints,  much  as  the  cause  of  Christ  will  lose  if  he 
be  allowed  to  depart  in  peace,  we  must  not  gloss  over 
the  truth,  but  measure  the  gloom  and  horror  of  his 
death-bed  from  the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses,  and  not 
from  Lady  Huntingdon's  imagination. 

The  ladies  of  Lady  Huntingdon's  clique,  we  are 
told,  had  hard  work  to  hold  their  own  against  the 
strong  temptations  presented  by  a-  frivolous  court,  a 
witty  peerage,  and  a  learned  bench  in  favor  of  a  for- 
mal religion.  "Nothing  but  the  'joy  of  the  Lord' 
34 


398         SERMONS   TO  TEE   CLERGY. 

could  have  sustained  them  in  such  a  sphere.  Happi- 
ness in  religion  was  the  best  security  for  their  holiness. 
They  could  not  be  laughed  out  of  a  good  hope  through 
grace.  .  .  .  Neither  the  severe  denunciations  of  War- 
burton  or  the  polished  sarcasm  of  Chesterfield  could 
touch  the  consciousness  of  peace  in  believing,  or  of 
enj'03'inent  in  secret  prayer,  in  the  hearts  of  those 
peeresses  who  had  found  at  the  cross  and  the  mercy- 
seat  the  happiness  they  had  sought  in  vain  from  the 
world." 

As  martyrdom,  this  makes  but  a  poor  showing, 
although  it  is  the  nearest  the  peeresses  can  get  to 
martjTdom.  Polished  sarcasms  can  very  well  be 
borne  when  they  are  accompanied  by  hundred-dollar 
notes  for  the  chapel  satirized :  at  least,  Lady  Hunt- 
ingdon's long  friendliness  with  the  satirist  proves  that 
she  thought  so.  Let  us  see  whether  "the  severe 
denunciations  of  Warburton ' '  were  wholly  in  the 
nature  of  persecution,  or  even  of  opposition  to  the 
gospel,  and  the  enjoyment  of  secret  prayer. 

Mr.  Romaine  was  one  of  those  travelling  chaplains 
whose  laborious  and  unselfish  ministrations  contained 
something  grand  and  beautiful.  Beautiful  they  un- 
doubtedly were  to  himself  ;  for  not  only  was  he  of 
Lady  Huntingdon's  party,  but  Lady  Margaret  Hast- 
ings ' '  felt  a  cordial  sympathy  for  Romaine  in  his 
London  trials  and  reverses,  and  —  and  generously 
eked  out  his  small  income  from  her  own  purse." 


FAIR  PLAY.  399 

This  unselfish,  grand,  and  beautiful  Mr.  Romaine, 
travelling  with  Lady  Huntingdon  at  Lady  Margaret's 
expense,  had  been  guilty  of  what  the  world  called  a 
shabby  little  trick  toward  Mr.  Warburton.  Mr.  War- 
burton  had  published  his  "  Divine  Legation."  Mr. 
Romaine  preached  against  it  a  sermon,  afterward 
published  by  Beltenham.  About  the  time  the  sermon 
was  preached,  Mr.  Romaine  wrote  to  Mr.  Warburton, 
and,  professing  to  be  his  admirer  and  defender, 
obtained  certain  advantages,  which,  when  his  sermon 
was  published,  excited  Mr.  Warburton's  great  chagrin 
and  displeasure.  In  his  indignation,  he  published  Mr. 
Romaine' s  letter,  with  his  own  comments  ;  whereupon 
Mr.  Romaine  rushed  into  print  to  declare  that  Mr. 
Warburton  might  have  made  a  better  use  of  his 
capacity  and  learning  than  to  think  uhe  deserved,  or 
that  I  meant  in  earnest,  those  compliments  in  the 
letter."  But  he,  an  entire  stranger  to  Mr.  Warbur- 
ton, had  spoken  to  him  of  u  your  last  excellent  book. 
I  had  read  it  more  than  once  with  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure,  and  had  ever  admired  your  elegant  style, 
great  learning,  and  strength  of  argument,  and  had 
been  used  to  hear  the  same  praises  from  others." 
What  is  here  to  indicate  that  he  was  not  in  earnest? 
or  that,  either  in  writing  the  compliments,  or  in  deny- 
ing their  earnestness,  he  was  not  what  Warburton  calls 
him,  —  an  ' w  execrable  scoundrel ' '  ?     Even  Beltenham, 


400  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

who  published  the  sermon,  so  much  disliked  Romanic's 
retort  on  Warburton,  that,  when  Romaine  took  it  to  be 
printed,  Beltenham  replied,  that  "it  was  a  knavish 
business,  and  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 
Think  of  that,  and  a  publisher ! 

Of  course,  these  little  doublings  and  turnings  did 
not  prevent  Mr.  Romaine  from  being  "  a  warm  and 
intrepid  champion  of  the  cross,"  or  Lady  Margaret 
from  contributing  her  own  purse  to  make  him  comfort- 
able, or  the  other  peeresses  from  their  peace  in  believ- 
ing ;  but  it  ought  to  make  us  a  little  charitable  toward 
poor,  rough- tongued  Warburton,  even  if  his  denuncia- 
tions were  a  little  severe.  And  severe,  indeed,  it  must 
have  seemed  to  these  high-bred  ladies  to  hear  their 
"dear  Mr.  Romaine"  called  "a  blunderbuss"  and 
"  a  poor  devil!  " 

It,  no  doubt,  seemed  to  them  severe  to  be  classed 
with  "idle  fanatics;"  but  had  not  the  indignant 
bishop  some  reason  for  his  characterization?  What 
were  the  effects  produced  by  the  preaching  of  the  men 
whom  Lady  Huntingdon  countenanced  and  encouraged? 
Mr,  Berridge,  her  especial  friend  and  correspondent, 
held  forth  to  his  congregation  till  they  responded  with 
shrieking  and  roaring  and  gasping,  like  people  half 
strangled.  Some  fell  down  as  dead.  An  able-bodied, 
fresh,  healthy  countryman  dropped  down  with  great 
violence,  shaking  the  adjoining  pews  with  his  fall,  and 


FAIR  PLAY.  401 

lay  kicking  and  stamping,  ready  to  break  the  boards. 
Among  the  children  was  a  boy  eight  3-ears  old,  who 
roared  above  his  fellows,  with  a  face  as  red  as  scarlet, 
as  well  it  may  have  been.  A  stranger,  well  dressed, 
fell  backward  to  the  wall,  then  forward  on  his  knees, 
roaring  like  a  bull.  One  Thomas  Skinner  came  for- 
ward, his  large  wig  and  hair  coal-black,  his  face  dis- 
torted beyond  all  description.  He  roared  incessantly, 
throwing  and  clapping  his  hands  together  with  his 
whole  force.  Several  were  terrified,  and  hastened  out 
of  his  way.  And  no  wonder.  Presently  he  fell  on 
his  back,  and  lay  roaring  for  hours.  "Almost  all," 
says  the  reporter  naively,  —  ' '  almost  all  on  whom  God 
laid  his  hand  turned  either  very  red,  or  almost  black.,, 
These  things  did  not  disturb  the  peeresses  ;  but  they 
did  irritate  the  bishop,  who,  though  not  serene,  was 
sensible.  I  do  not  find  that  he  anywhere  denounced 
secret  prayer.  What  he  did  denounce  was  public 
roaring.  He  was  willing  to  grant  peace,  but  not 
tumult,  in  believing.  Mr.  Wesle}^  condemned  pru- 
dence as  the  nrystery  of  iniquity  and  the  offspring  of 
hell,  when  the  question  was  of  preaching  against  the 
body  of  clergy  to  which  he  belonged.  Is  it  strange  or 
persecuting,  that  Mr.  Warburton  should  have  pounced 
upon  him  for  counselling  Whitefield  that  it  was  impru- 
dent to  publish  the  letter  against  himself,  or  for  pro- 
posing to  meet  another  minister  halfway,  and  offering 

34:* 


402  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

never  to  preach  publicly  against  Mr.  G.,  if  Mr.  G. 
would  promise  never  to  preach  against  him? 

Mr.  Wesley  thought  and  taught,  that  true  religion 
did  not  consist  in  living  harmless,  using  the  means  of 
grace,  and  doing  much  good,  but  in  God's  dwelling 
and  reigning  in  the  soul.  But,  if  God's  dwelling  in 
the  soul  turns  men  black  in  the  face,  must  not  the 
bishop  be  pardoned,  if  he  preferred  the  Gospel  accord- 
ing to  St.  James  to  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John 
Wesley?  The  account  of  Lady  Huntingdon  and  her 
friends  is  published  by  the  American  Tract  Society ; 
but  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  supporters  of  that  society 
would  utter  just  as  severe  denunciations  of  the  pro- 
ceedings in  question  as  did  Bishop  Warburton  —  if 
they  knew  how.  It  was  not  the  frivolous  court,  the 
witty  peerage,  the  learned  bench,  that  made  the 
strongest  temptation  to  a  formal  religion :  it  was 
the  ignorance,  the  vulgaritj',  the  boundless  license  of 
fanaticism,  into  which  religion  lapsed,  when,  rejecting 
forms,  it  rejected  also  decorum  and  decency.  B}^  his 
own  confession,  it  tickled  Whitefield's  vanity  to  be 
mobbed ;  but  the  man,  who,  in  making  proposals  of 
marriage,  could  bless  God  that  he  was  free  from  the 
foolish  passion  which  the  world  calls  love,  deserved  to 
have  dead  cats  thrown  at  him..  It  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  these  men  were  hypocrites ;  but,  in  cer- 
tain respects,  they  lacked  a  perception  of  the  relations 


FAIR  PLAY.  403 

of  things ;  and  it  was  this  lack,  as  well  as  the  purity 
of  their  doctrines,  which  provoked  opposition.  Indeed, 
Wesle}-  himself,  in  his  mellow  old  age,  considering  the 
wrong-heacledness  of  his  earlier  years,  marvelled  that 
the  people  had  not  stoned  him.  Formalism,  minister- 
ing at  the  altar  in  priestly  robes,  is  not  religion ;  but 
neither  is  fanaticism,  kicking  its  heels  against  the 
pews,  and  roaring  like  bulls  of  Bashan  :  and,  if  peer- 
esses do  not  see  it,  let  us  be  thankful  that  Chester- 
fields are  raised  up  to  level  at  it  their  polished  spears 
of  sarcasm,  and  Warburtons  to  bring  down  upon  it 
their  huge  cleavers  of  indignation.  To  call  these  men 
hostile  to  religion  because  they  saw  and  repelled  the 
vagaries  and  extravagances  of  some  of  the  preachers 
of  religion,  to  condemn  them  without  noticing  the 
weakness  and  wickedness  which  elicited  their  disap- 
proval, is  to  falsify  history,  to  misuse  opportunity,  and 
make  the  word  of  God  of  none  effect  by  our  traditions. 
Lady  Huntingdon  and  her  peeresses  were  good  women  ; 
but  they  would  have  been  none  the  less  good  if  they 
could  have  been  touched  by  severe  and  deserved  de- 
nunciation, by  polished  and  rightly  pointed  sarcasm. 
A  keener  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  a  stronger  power  of 
discrimination,  would  have  made  them  no  less  single- 
hearted,  and,  one  would  say,  more  really  efficient  and 
influential.  It  was  no  credit  to  their  penetration,  that 
they  flocked  after  their  preachers  through  thick  and 


404  SERMONS   TO  THE  CLERGY. 

thin,  bleating  as  trustfully  among  the  morasses  of 
superstition  and  sensation  and  tergiversation  as  in 
the  green  pastures,  and  beside  the  still  waters,  of  right- 
eousness. 

Mr.  Venn,  an  amiable  and  excellent  clergyman,  lost 
an  admirable  wife,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached. 
But  even  in  the  midst  of  his  tears  for  his  unspeakable 
loss,  so  inalienable  is  the  egotism  of  a  certain  type  of 
pietj',  he  had  the  composure  to  look  through  his  fin- 
gers, as  it  were,  and  mark  how  his  grief  affected  the 
beholders.  "  For  his  own  cause,  I  cannot  but  conclude 
the  Lord  does  it,  since,  immediately  upon  my  unspeak- 
able loss,  the  opposers  cried  out,  '  Oh !  now  you  will 
see  what  will  become  of  his  vauntings  of  the  power  of 
faith  and  the  name  of  Jesus.'  They  knew  our  great 
happiness  ;  and  they  said,  '  You  will  see  }'our  vicar 
just  like  any  one  of  us  in  the  same  situation.'  But 
nry  God  heard  and  answered." 

That  is,  the  wife  died,  that  the  Christian  faith  might 
be  illustrated  by  her  husband's  resignation.  Of  course, 
no  one  can  disprove  this  ;  though  the  overwhelming 
probabilities  are,  that  Mrs.  Venn  died  in  the  simplest 
earthly  manner,  —  of  inherited  or  legitimate^  acquired 
disease ;  but,  surely,  this  habit  of  posing  and  living 
with  a  view  to  what  other  people  think  of  you  indi- 
cates and  develops  an  unwholesome  and  unnatural 
character.     In  course  of  time  Mr.  Venn  again  became 


FAIR  PLAY.  405 

engaged,  and  thus  wrote  to  the  lady,  "  Long  was  I 
very  backward  to  think  of  entering  again  into  the 
marriage-state,  though  so  blessed  in  my  first  connec- 
tion ;  but  the  gracious  God,  whom  I  serve,  and  whose 
I  am,  has  provided  for  me  one  of  his  own  elect." 

Did  Mr.  Venn  suppose  that  God  took  any  more 
interest  in  his  love-affairs  than  in  another  man's,  or 
that  he  brought  about  his  marriage  in  any  other  way 
than  he  brings  about  all  things,  —  b}r  the  use  of  the 
requisite  means  ?  Is  it  piety  that  speaks  of  the  Most 
High  as  a  match-maker,  and  man  a  mere  puppet  in  his 
hands,  not  using  his  own  eyes  to  find  his  wife,  but 
taking  the  one  provided  for  him  ?  How  did  Mr.  Venn 
know  that  God  had  selected  this  woman  to  be  his  wife  ? 
When  Whitefield  wanted  to  marry,  he  wrote  to  the 
lady's  father,  "  I  write  only  because  I  believe  it  is  the 
will  of  God  that  I  should  alter  my  state ;  but  your 
denial  will  fully  convince  me  that  your  daughter  is 
not  the  person  appointed  by  God  for  me."  Very  sen- 
sible in  Mr.  Whitefield.  A  flat  refusal  from  a  resolute 
father  is  certainly  a  strong  indication  of  the  Lord's 
will.  Whitefield  evident^  had  less  faith  in  heavenly 
than  in  earthly  revelations.  He  might  be  mistaken  in 
interpreting  the  one  ;  but  there  was  no  doubt  about  the 
other.  But  this  time  the  divine  will  was  conveyed, 
not  through  the  lips  of  the  father,  but  of  the  daughter, 
which  was  even  more  decisive.     If  the  trumpet  of  the 


406  SERMONS  TO   THE  CLERGY. 

Lord  ever  gives  a  certain  sound,  it  is  from  the  mouth 
of  a  determined  woman  saying  '  No '  to  her  suitor. 
After  strong  crying  and  tears  at  the  throne  of  grace  for 
direction,  Whitefield  married  the  Widow  James  of 
Abergavemry,  "  a  despised  follower  of  the  Lamb." 
Before  his  child  was  born,  he  prophesied  that  it  would 
be  a  boy,  and  become  a  preacher  of  the  gospel.  It 
proved  a  boy,  but  died  in  four  months  ;  whereupon 
he  philosophized  that  "Satan  had  been  permitted  to 
give  him  some  wrong  impressions,  whereby  he  had 
misapplied  several  texts  of  Scripture."  Moreover,  his 
marriage  turned  out  not  to  be  a  happy  one  :  so  it  seems 
that  those  who  depend  upon  the  Lord  for  wives  are  no 
better  off  than  those  who  fall  in  love  on  their  own 
account.  And,  on  the  whole,  what  reason  is  there  for 
supposing  that  God  supervised  Mr.  Whitefield's  and 
Mr.  Venn's  courtship  any  more  closely  than  Mr. 
Smith's  or  Mr.  Brown's? 

Mr.  Wesley  seems  to  have  been  a  more  manly  man 
than  Whitefield,  more  human,  more  natural,  less  vain, 
worthy,  indeed,  of  a  happy  domestic  life  ;  yet  he  fared 
ill,  fared  especially  and  grievously  ill,  in  his  fortune 
with  women.  The  nineteenth  century  has  thus  far 
developed  nothing  more  farcical,  more  scandalous, 
more  preposterous,  than  the  loves  of  John  Wesley. 
In  his  friendship  for  "Miss  Sophy,"  his  heart  was 
deeply  enlisted.     She  was  young,  pretty,  and  intelli- 


FAIR  PLAY.  407 

gent.  He  was  thirty-five,  handsome,  well  bred,  and 
of  genial  manners.  He  was  passionately  fond  of  her  ; 
and  she  liked  him,  and,  doubtless,  more  than  liked  him. 
She  dressed  in  white  because  it  pleased  him  ;  and,  when 
he  fell  sick,  she  nursed  him.  It  was  the  nicest  little 
love-affair  that  could  be  dreamed  of,  with  nothing  in 
earth  or  heaven  to  hinder.  But  there  is  a  third  estate, 
which  always  finds  some  mischief  still  for  idle  hands 
to  do ;  and,  in  an  evil  moment,  Mr.  Wesle}-,  instead 
of  acting  out  of  his  own  manly,  loving  heart,  pro- 
pounded the  matter  to  the  bishop,  and  then  to  the 
elders  of  the  church,  through  all  of  whom  God  com- 
manded him,  he  sa}Ts,  to  pull  out  his  right  e}-e,  meaning 
to  give  up  Miss  Sophy ;  but,  hesitating,  Miss  Sophy 
pulled  it  out  herself  by  marrying  another  man.  What 
pique  of  pride,  what  wounds  of  disappointed  love,  the 
young  girl  suffered,  we  can  only  divine  ;  but  poor  Wes- 
ley was  sorely  driven  of  the  wind,  and  tossed.  After 
he  had  incurred  Miss  Sophy's  displeasure  b}'  listening 
to  the  Moravian  adversaries,  he  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  separation  from  her,  and  begged  her  to 
break  her  rash  engagement  with  the  other  man,  and 
marry  himself.  After  her  hasty  marriage,  he  could 
only  comfort  himself  by  the  reflection,  that  he  should 
have  been  so  happy  with  her  that  he  should  have  given 
up  preaching.  Poor  dear!  One  pities  him,  in  spite 
of  all  these  hundred  and  fifty  years.     Doubtless,  also, 


408  SERMONS   TO  THE  CLERGY. 

it  was  some  comfort,  though  a  trifle  spiteful,  for  him  to 
write  that  her  husband  was  "a  person  not  remark- 
able for  handsomeness,  neither  for  greatness,  neither 
for  wit  or  knowledge  or  sense,  and,  least  of  all,  for 
religion  ;  "  and  "  presently  God  showed  him  yet  more 
of  the  greatness  of  his  deliverance  by  opening  to  him 
a  new  and  unexpected  scene  of  Miss  Sophy's  dissimu- 
lation." I  do  not  feel  so  sure  of  that.  Perhaps  Miss 
Sophia  would  not  have  dissembled,  if  mischievous 
Moravian  outsiders  had  not  taken  from  her  the  hand- 
some, great,  and  wise  man  whom  she  loved,  and  piqued 
her  to  fling  herself  hastily  into  the  arms  of  a  man 
whom  she  can  hardly  be  supposed  to  have  loved.  At 
any  rate,  Mr.  Wesley  was  so  hampered  by  the  bonds 
of  his  church  and  his  love,  that  he  could  neither 
many  her,  nor  let  her  alone ;  and  he  was  presently 
defendant  in  a  scandal  suit  brought  by  Miss  Sophia's 
husband,  from  which,  after  three  months  of  waiting 
for  trial,  he  escaped  by  hiring  four  renegade  debtors 
to  row  him  away  in  a  boat  by  night.  Whether  God 
commanded  him  to  plan  this  little  escapade  does  not 
appear. 

Several  j^ears  afterwards,  the  movings  of  the  Spirit 
led  him  to  Grace  Murray,  who  also  had  nursed  him 
when  he  was  sick ;  and  again  the  Most  High  spoke 
through  his  brother  Charles  and  Whitefield,  for  the 
excellent  reason  that  she  was  already  engaged  to  John 


FAIR  PLAY.  409 

Bennett,  one  of  his  lay-preachers,  whom  she  had 
nursed  before  Wesley  fell  ill.  His  brother  and 
friends  counselled  her  to  keep  to  her  engagement. 
Naughty  John  Wesley,  did  God  command  you  to 
make  love  to  another  man's  betrothed?  He  is  excused, 
on  the  plea  of  not  knowing  that  she  was  engaged  to 
Bennett;  but  after  Bennett  and  Grace  wrote  him  a 
joint  letter,  asking  his  consent  to  their  marriage,  he 
must  have  suspected  that  all  was  not  going  smoothly 
with  his  suit.  Still,  as  Mrs.  Murray  seems  to  have 
changed  her  mind  with  each  change  of  lovers,  perhaps 
Mr.  Wesley  is  not  much  to  be  blamed  for  holding  on. 
Doubtless,  he  thought  he  had  as  much  right  to  win, 
and  was  as  likely  to  win,  as  the  other  man.  In  the 
morning  she  told  John  Wesley  she  loved  him  a  thou- 
sand times  better  than  she  ever  loved  John  Bennett : 
in  the  evening  she  promised  John  Bennett  to.  marry 
him.  A  week  after  she  told  Mr.  Wesley  she  was 
determined  to  live  and  die  with  him,  and  wanted  to 
be  married  at  once.  If  Mr.  Wesley  could  only  have 
come  up  to  the  mark  then,  all  might  yet  have  been 
well ;  but,  madly  enough,  he  wished  some  delay. 
Grace  said  she  would  not  wait  more  than  a  year ;  and 
she  was  as  good  as  her  word,  for  in  three  weeks  she 
was  married  to  Bennett.  Then  the  defeated  one  in 
this  game  of  see-saw  thus  bemoans  himself,  "  Since 
I  was  six  years  old,  I  never  met  with  such  a  severe 

35 


410        SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

trial."  He  had  forgotten  that  little  operation  of  pull- 
ing out  his  right  eye.  "  I  thought  I  had  made  all 
sure,  beyond  a  danger  of  disappointment.  But  we  were, 
soon  after,  torn  asunder  as  by  a  whirlwind.  I  fasted 
and  prayed."  But  what  was  the  good  of  fasting  and 
praying  after  it  was  all  over?  How  much  better  to 
have  stepped  up  and  married  her  when  she  was  ready 
to  his  hand,  and  then  have  had  a  day  of  thanksgiving ! 
for,  as  she  made  an  excellent  wife  to  Bennett,  she 
would,  doubtless,  have  made  an  excellent  one  to 
Wesley. 

Mr.  Bennett  seems  to  have  been  a  perfectly  proper 
match  for  the  lady,  being  a  man  of  classical  education, 
and  superior  native  talents.  It  is  just  possible  that  he 
may  not  have  been  particularly  pleased  with  this  little 
episode ;  and  that  his  subsequent  defection  from  the 
Wesle}ran  ranks,  and  his  opposition  to  Wesley,  may 
have  been  somewhat  influenced  by  this  bit  of  personal 
history.  It  is  to  be  noticed,  that,  though  Mr.  Wesley 
submitted  to  the  will  of  God  and  John  Bennett,  he 
was  much  offended  with  his  brother  Charles,  who 
enforced  it,  and  interfered  against  the  match  as  soon 
as  he  found  it  out. 

Not  only  without  were  fightings,  but  within  were 
fears.  When  Wesley  had  no  inclination  to  marry,  he 
had  published  a  treatise  in  favor  of  "remaining  single 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's  sake."    Now  that  his  heart 


FAIR  PLAT.  411 

was  fully  set  on  marrying,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
explain,  that  he  only  meant  "  to  remain  single  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven's  sake,  unless  when  a  particular 
case  might  be  an  exception  to  the  general  rule." 
Admirable  distinction!  And  his  was  the  particular 
case. 

He  then  gathered  his  friends  together,  and  consulted 
them,  and  was  clearly  convinced  that  he  ought  to 
many;  which  shows  the  remarkable  reasoning  power 
of  his  friends.  He  fully  believed  he  "  might  be  more 
useful  in  a  married  state,  into  which,  upon  this  clear 
conviction,  and  by  the  advice  of  my  friends,  I  entered 
a  few  days  after" 

"But  fixed  before,  and  well  resolved  was  he, 
As  men  who  ask  advice  are  wont  to  be." 

All  this  was  accomplished  in  about  a  year  after  the 
whirlwind  had  torn  him  from  Grace  Murray.  But  I  do 
not  mind  Grace  Murray.  She  was  a  widow,  and 
thirty-four,  and  abundantly  able  to  take  care  of  herself. 
It  was  pretty  Sophy  Hopkey  in  her  white  dress  that  he 
ought  to  have  married,  and  kept  from  breaking  her 
heart  and  his  own  in  a  fit  of  girlish  pique.  Such  a 
bright,  happy  life  she  would  have  led  him  ! 

But  there  was  the  slippery  bridge,  and  the  sprained 
ankle,  and  the  Widow  Vazeille  tying  in  wait  to  nurse 
him ;  and  it  was  all  over  with  John  Wesley.     Surely, 


412        SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

never  had  man  more  need,  or  less  heed,  of  the  warning 
of  Mr.  Weller,  senior,  to  his  son  Sammy.  In  eight 
days  from  the  sprained  ankle,  she  and  her  four  chil- 
dren were  married  to  him.  She  robbed  him ;  she 
wounded  him ;  she  betrayed  him ;  she  secretly  spied 
upon  him ;  she  searched  his  pockets  ;  she  dragged  him 
about  by  the  hair,  and  pulled  it  out  by  the  roots  ;  she 
published  every  thing  which  would  bear  a  construction 
unfavorable  to  him,  and  accused  him  of  deadly  sin  with 
the  wife  of  his  brother  Charles.  Verily,  it  was  not  so 
much  of  a  deliverance,  after  all,  —  out  of  the  hands 
of  Miss  Sophy  into  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Molly.  Was 
this  what  the  divine  Being  was  aiming  at?  Verily, 
Miss  Sophy  had  as  much  to  console  her  in  John 
Wesley's  wife  as  John  had  in  the  contemplation  of 
Miss  Sophy's  husband.  All  this  did  not  prevent  the 
wife's  tombstone  from  eulogizing  her  as  a  woman  of 
exemplary  piety,  a  tender  parent,  and  a  sincere  friend. 
But  let  us  not  be  too  harsh  upon  the  dead  lady,  to 
whom  her  husband  used  to  write,  — 

"Be  content  to  be  a  private,  insignificant  person, 
known  and  loved  by  God  and  me." 

1 '  Leave  me  to  be  governed  by  God  and  my  own  con- 
science ;  then  shall  I  govern  you  with  gentle  sway." 

"  Of  what  importance  is  your  character  to  mankind? 
If  you  was  buried  just  now,  or  if  you  had  never 
lived,  what  loss  would  it  be  to  the  cause  of  God? " 


FAIR  PLAT.  413 

"Are  you  more  humble,  more  gentle,  more  patient, 
more  placable,  than  you  was?  I  fear,  quite  the  reverse. 
I  fear  3-our  natural  tempers  are  rather  increased  than 
diminished." 

One  wonders  he  had  a  hair  left  in  his  head ! 

Suppose,  now,  after  reading  such  a  letter  as  this  to 
herself,  one  of  the  letters  she  found  while  searching 
Mr.  Wesley's  pockets  happened  to  be  this  to  Mrs. 
Sarah  Ryan :  — 

"  The  conversing  with  you,  either  by  speaking  or 
writing,  is  an  unspeakable  blessing  to  me.  I  cannot 
think  of  you  without  thinking  of  God.  Others  often 
lead  me  to  him  ;  but  it  is,  as  it  were,  going  roundabout : 
you  bring  me  straight  into  his  presence.  ...  I  not 
only  excuse,  but  love,  your  simplicity.  .  .  .  Upon  what 
a  pinnacle  do  3rou  stand !  Perhaps  few  persons  in 
England  have  been  in  so  dangerous  a  situation  as  you 
are  now.  I  know  not  whether  any  other  was  ever 
so  regarded,  both  by  my  brother  and  me,  at  the 
same  time."' 

Being  an  unreasonable  and  jealous  woman,  the 
wonder  is  she  left  him  his  head ! 

And  this  Sarah  Ityan,  whose  simplicity  was  so  sweet 
to  him,  whose  words  were  an  unspeakable  blessing, 
whose  presence  was  the  pathway  to  God,  had  been, 
like  his  wife,  a  servant.  She  left  service  to  marry  a 
mechanic  who  already  had  one  wife.  He  ran  away 
35 


414  SERMONS  TO   THE   CLERGY. 

from  Sarah ;  and  then  she  became  engaged  to  an 
Italian  sailor.  Before  the  marriage  she  happened  to 
nurse  an  Irish  sailor  named  Ryan,  with  what  appears 
to  have  been  the  usual  result :  she  married  him.  He 
went  to  sea  ;  and  she  married  the  Italian  until  he  came 
back ;  and  then  she  returned  to  Ryan,  and  lived  with 
him  till  he  went  to  sea  again.  He  wrote  to  her  from 
America,  wishing  her  to  come  over  to  him ;  but  she 
refused.  And,  with  three  husbands  living,  Wesle}'  ap- 
pointed her  housekeeper,  or  matron,  in  his  theological 
school  at  Kingswood,  and  made  her  his  intimate  friend, 
and  the  confidante  of  his  domestic  troubles.  And  when 
they  were  all  sitting  comfortably  at  dinner,  Wesley 
with  his  ministers,  and  Sarah  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
in  burst  the  irate  Mrs.  Wesley  upon  them,  hurling 
the  coarsest  insults  at  Mrs.  Ryan,  and  narrating  bits 
of  her  personal  history  to  the  astonished  company. 

A  hundred  years  and  more  have  passed  awa}^ ;  and 
it  may  scarcely  be  said  that  stain  or  speck  mars  the 
white  fame  of  Wesley.  The  vast  majority  who  revere 
his  memory  know  nothing  of  his  whims  or  weakness,  but 
only  his  energy,  his  zeal,  his  wonderful  effectiveness,  his 
marvellous  power.  This  is  as  it  should  be.  In  this 
world  our  treasure  must  be  put  into  earthen  vessels. 
We  are  often  indignant  and  disappointed  to  find  it  so. 
A  man  arises  with  some  gift  of  song  or  speech,  so  bril- 
liant, so  magnetic,  that  it  lifts  him  above  his  fellows  ;  and 


FAIR  PLAY.  415 

we  would  fain  believe  it  is  the  voice  of  a  god,  and  not  of 
a  man.  But,  in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  we  find  him 
sharing  the  common  lot,  falling  into  the  same  folly,  the 
same  mistakes,  which  have  entrapped  ourselves  ;  and 
we  are  enraged.  We  feel  ourselves  deceived.  True ; 
but  it  was  ourselves  deceived  ourselves.  The  greatest 
eloquence,  the  most  irresistible  power  over  masses  of 
men,  will  not  prevent  a  man  from  crying  out,  when  he 
is  drowning,  "Help  me,  Cassias,  or  I  sink!"  Our 
mortal  god  will  shake  when  the  fever-fit  is  on  him, 
and  beg,  "  Give  me  some  drink,  Titinius,"  as  a  sick 
girl ;  and,  in  the  fever-fit  of  love,  is  not  likely  to  be  half 
so  sensible  as  a  sick  girl.  Our  gods  are  not  really  any 
more  foolish  than  ourselves ;  but  our  own  follies  are 
acted,  not  scanned,  and  no  one  knows  them.  John 
Wesle}*  makes  a  poor  figure  in  love  ;  and  John  Smith  is 
very  angry  with  him  on  that  account.  But  if  all  that 
John  Smith  said  and  did  when  he  was  in  love  had  been 
published  in  a  memoir,  word  for  word,  doubt  for  doubt, 
pang  for  pang,  thrill  for  thrill,  would  it  read  any  bet- 
ter? In  the  case  of  most  of  us,  the  reason  we  are  not 
covered  with  blushes  for  our  silly  sentimentalisms,  or 
our  sillier  rejections  of  them,  is,  that  our  obscurity 
has  kept  them  from  being  of  the  slightest  interest 
to  the  world.  If  we  had  made  as  fine  a  figure  as 
John  Wesley  we  should  have  made  as  poor  a  one. 
Being  nobodies,   we   enacted  our  follies  without   so 


416         SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

much  as  suspecting  they  were  follies ;  and  when  a 
man  comes  towering  so  far  above  us,  that  even  his 
weaknesses  are  learned  and  conned  by  rote,  we  rage 
as  if  some  strange  thing  had  happened  unto  him,  and 
not  that  which  is  common  unto  man.  But  even  that 
is  better  than  to  hold  up  these  weaknesses  as  virtues 
and  graces  to  be  extolled  and  imitated.  Did  all  this 
self-examination,  this  consultation  with  the  elders, 
this  dependence  upon  divine  direction,  amount  to  any 
thing?  These  people  certainly  made  no  better  mar- 
riages than  those  who  fall  in  love  the  natural  way,  and 
say  nothing  about  it.  Nor  do  I  believe  that  they  got 
any  more  happiness  or  holiness  out  of  their  strong 
crying  and  tears  than  an  honest  lover  gets  in 
making  love  to  a  nice  girl.  If  the  human  mind  is 
capable  of  comprehending  the  divine  will,  courting, 
and  not  crying,  is  the  Heaven-appointed  pathway  to 
marriage.  When  Whitefield  was  spreading  his  letters 
before  the  Lord,  and  blessing  him  that  he  was  not 
in  love,  he  was  despising  the  means  of  grace,  and 
setting  up  unmanly  methods  of  his  own  ;  and  he  ought 
to  have  had  a  poor  wife,  or  have  been  made  miserable 
by  a  good  one.  All  this  backing  and  filling  seems 
childish.  All  this  talk  about  the  divine  direction  is 
worse  than  childish.  Wesley  thought  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  should  come  together  to  decide  whether  he 
should,  or  should  not,  marry.     What  does  that  remind 


FAIR  PLAY.  417 

one  of  but  the  most  inflated  and  exasperating  self- 
conceit  ?  It  is  not  impossible  that  a  man  may  many 
because  he  thinks  it  is  the  divine  will  that  he  should ; 
but,  the  less  he  says  about  it,  the  better.  The  world 
will  be  sure  to  think  scornfully  of  him  ;  and  the  world 
is  very  likely  to  be  right.  It  is  impossible  to  give 
credence  to  a  man  who  brings  in  the  Deity  as  an 
excuse  for  doing  what  he  wants  to  do.  All  the  saints 
on  earth  would  not  make  us  believe  that  God  was 
any  thing  more  than  an  accessory  after  the  fact.  He 
who  falls  in  love,  and  marries  a  woman  with  simple, 
straightforward  sincerity,  because  he  loves  her,  is  just 
as  much  in  the  path  of  duty  as  if  he  had  all  the  elders 
of  the  church  to  pray  over  him.  Why  should  a  man 
make  a  great  merit  of  going  around  by  Robin  Hood's 
barn,  when  all  the  world  reaches  the  same  place  by 
taking  a  straight  cut  across  the  fields? 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Venn,  writing  to  the  lady  who  was  about 
to  become  his  second  wife,  says,  "I  begin  to  feel 
more  concerned  than  I  at  first  did,  lest  my  children 
should  give  you  trouble ;  for,  just  in  proportion 
as  I  love  and  value  you,  I  must  feel  any  thing  that 
in  any  degree  may  affect  you.  And  I  say  to  nryself, 
4  How  should  I  be  able  to  bear  seeing  my  dear  wife  in 
tears,  or  void  of  her  sweet  cheerfulness  and  vivacity 
of  spirit,  by  any  of  my  children,  to  whom  she  has  so 
kindly  shown  herself  a  friend  in  need? '  " 


418  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Which  was  certainly  amiable  in  Mr.  Venn.  But 
how  about  the  children  ?  The  grown  woman  was  much 
better  able  to  take  care  of  herself  than  were  the  five 
children  under  thirteen  3~ears  of  age  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  They  were  helpless,  and  had  no  voice  in 
the  matter.  She  knew  what  she  was  about.  She  went 
into  battle  with  her  eyes  open.  They  could  give  her 
trouble ;  but  she  could  mar  their  life.  He  was  to 
them  under  the  strongest  bonds  that  one  human 
being  can  be  to  another.  She  was  to  take,  or  to  leave  ; 
and,  after  all,  the  decision  was  in  her  own  hands. 
Sound  sense,  accustomed  to  look  at  things  on  all 
sides,  would  have  had  a  little  anxiety  to  bestow  on 
the  children,  and  would  not  have  lavished  it  all, 
however  sweetly,  on  the  mature  and  independent 
woman. 

Dr.  Doddridge  seems  to  have  been  a  most  courteous 
and  agreeable  person.  Even  the  bristling  "Warburton 
roared  him  gentry.  But  what  is  that  peculiar  mental 
organization  which  makes  it  edifying  for  a  man  to 
spend  his  time  in  writing  out  in  set  phrase,  "As  a 
husband,  ma}'  I  particularly  avoid  every  thing  which 
has  the  appearance  of  pettishness.  .  .  .  May  it  be 
my  daily  care  to  keep  up  the  spirit  of  religion  in 
conversation  with  my  wife,  to  recommend  her  to  the 
divine  blessing,  and  to  manifest  an  obliging  and 
tender   disposition    towards    her "  ?    What  sort    of 


FAIR  PLAT  419 

tenderness  is  that  which  a  man  resolves  upon?  How 
shall  he  go  to  work  to  take  care  to  keep  up  any  thing 
in  talking  with  his  wife  ?  What  elaborate  and  cumber- 
some machinery  where  there  should  be  spontaneity! 
And  if  a  good  man  must  needs  grind  out  his  emo- 
tions in  this  laborious  fashion,  and  his  biographer 
cannot  conscientiously  hush  it  up,  why  should  he  not 
soften  it  down  by  referring  it  to  the  pompous  custom 
of  the  age,  and  not  blindly  blazon  it  as  something 
admirable,  and  worthy  of  imitation?  No  one  would 
divorce  religion  from  the  marketing  and  the  house- 
rent ;  but  no  one  wants  the  marriage-ceremon}7  per- 
formed every  morning.  Self-survey  and  attitudinizing 
do  not  neutralize  the  excellence  of  a  good  man ;  but 
simplicity  and  self-forgetfulness  are  better. 

When  Lord  Dartmouth  was  rebuked  for  his  tardi- 
ness in  waiting  upon  the  king  at  a  morning  ride,  he 
replied,  "  I  have  learned  to  wait  upon  the  King  of 
kings  before  I  wait  on  my  earthly  sovereign."  Could 
any  thing  be  more  ill  bred,  indecorous,  priggish?  Yet 
the  biographer  finds  heart  to  say,  "  May  the  lofty  and 
uncompromising  tone  of  his  religious  character  ever 
distinguish  the  institution  which  bears  his  name  !  " 

Let  not  the  graduates  of  Dartmouth  College  flatter 
themselves  that  any  president  would  long  retain  in  his 
cabinet  an  attorney-general  or  a  war  secretary  who 
could  not  rise  early  enough  to  keep  his  appointments. 


420  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

The  probability  is,  that  he  would  presently  find  his 
religious  character  to  be  not  the  only  uncompromising 
thing  in  the  world,  and  would  speedily  and  deservedly 
be  relegated  to  that  private  station  where  he  could  take 
his  own  time  to  his  devotions. 

Nor  does  his  inflexibility  as  a  devotee  seem  to  have 
been  carried  into  his  duties  as  a  statesman,  since  the 
profane  historian  tells  us,  that  though,  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  his  own  department,  he  at  first  assumed 
some  degree  of  independence,  "he  soon  betrayed  a 
want  of  consistency  and  firmness,  which,  although  he 
was  inclined  to  good  measures,  led  him  to  join  in 
sustaining  the  worst.' '  We  are  told  that  there  are 
odds  in  deacons ;  but  we  would  much  rather  know 
that  Secretary  Fish  could  be  depended  upon  for  main- 
taining the  honor  of  the  country  intact  than  that  he 
kept  President  Grant  waiting  while  he  said  his 
prayers. 

Lady  Huntingdon  wished  to  build  a  chapel. 

"  Wherein  could  she  curtail  ?  There  lay  her  jewels,  long  since 
put  aside  for  a  pearl  of  infinitely  greater  price ;  and  these  she 
determined  to  offer  to  her  Lord.  They  were  sold  for  six  hun- 
dred and  ninety-eight  pounds;  and  with  this  she  erected  a  neat 
house  of  worship. 

"During  her  last  years,  Lady  Huntingdon's  style  of  living 
befitted  less  an  English  peer  than  an  heir  of  glory.  Her  equipage 
and  furniture  were  extremely  simple ;  and,  although  her  income 
was  much  increased  at  her  son's  death,  so  ample  were  her  bene- 


FAIR  PLAY.  421 

factions,  that  she  allowed  herself  hut  one  dress  a  year,  —  a  degree 
of  economy  that  might  well  shame  many  a  Christian  woman 
whose  adorning  consists  far  more  in  the  '  putting-on  of  apparel ' 
than  '  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart  in  that  which  is  not  corrupti- 
ble.* 

"She  maintained  the  college  at  her  own  expense;  she  erected 
chapels  in  most  parts  of  the  kingdom;  and  she  supported 
preachers,  who  were  sent  to  preach  in  various  parts  of  the 
world.  This  was,  indeed,  consecration  to  God.  '  Go  thou  .  .  . 
and  do  likewise.' " 

The  real  lesson  of  Lady  Huntingdon's  energy  and 
beneficence  are  likely  to  be  lost  in  this  headlong 
omnivorousness.  Such  utter  confusion  of  thought 
would  be  amusing,  as  well  as  amazing,  if  it  were  not 
mischievous.  Lady  Huntingdon  laid  aside  her  jewels 
for  the  pearl  of  greater  price.  Are  the  two  incompati- 
ble? From  the  day  when  Abraham's  pious  servant 
adorned  Rebekah  with  jewels  of  silver,  and  jewels  of 
gold,  ear-rings  upon  her  face,  and  bracelets  upon  her 
hands,  until  the  day  when  the  holy  city,  the  New 
Jerusalem,  came  down  from  God  out  of  heaven, 
wholly  made  up  of  gold  and  precious  stones,  these 
gems  have  been  held  in  honor,  the  type  and  emblem  of 
all  pure  and  priceless  things.  Does  the  Tract  Society 
mean  to  teach,  or  does  it  believe  that  St.  Peter  meant 
to  teach,  that  the  young  schoolgirl,  wearing  a  gold 
locket  on  her  velvet  ribbon,  and  a  silk  bow  on  her 
braided  hair,  cannot  be  a  Christian?  Does  the  oyster 
secrete  a  substance  that  is  fatal  to  piety  ?  se 


422  SERMONS  TO  THE  CLERGY. 

Lady  Huntingdon  offered  her  jewels  to  her  Lord, 
and  got  six  hundred  pounds  for  them.  We  must  not 
suppose,  however,  what  the  language  indicates,  that 
the  Lord  was  the  purchaser.  They  probably  went  no 
farther  than  the  show-case  of  a  London  jeweller.  But, 
if  jewels  are  incompatible  with  religion,  what  right 
had  Lad}^  Huntingdon  to  sell  hers  ?  She  ought  to  have 
destroyed  them.  That  she  wanted  to  build  chapels 
with  the  proceeds  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Shall  we 
ruin  some  sotils  to  save  others  ? 

Was  it  right  that  her  style  of  living  befitted  less  an 
English  peer  than  an  heir  of  glory  ?  At  the  most,  she 
was  only  an  heir-expectant  of  glory ;  but  the  peerage 
was  a  present  fact.  It  was  her  duty  to  live  in  a  man- 
ner befitting  her  actual  earthly  rank  as  much  as  her 
supposed  heavenly  rank.  The  very  best  way  to  pre- 
pare for  the  next  world  is  to  discharge  the  duties  of 
this. 

Does  the  Tract  Society  mean  that  the  rich  ladies  of 
Boston,  New  York,  and  Washington,  —  the  wives  of 
the  merchant-princes,  the  great  lawyers,  the  cabinet 
ministers,  — should  have  no  jewels,  should  ride  alwa}Ts 
in  horse-cars,  should  carpet  their  floors  with  straw- 
matting,  buy  only  one  gown  a  .year,  and  devote  their 
money  to  building  meeting-houses,  and  supporting 
ministers?  If  this  is  not  meant,  what  is  meant? 
"This  was,  indeed,  consecration  to  God."     Where  in 


FAIR  PLAY.  423 

the  Bible,  where  in  the  whole  realm  of  reason,  can  such 
a  doctrine  be  found  ?  It  is  the  creed  of  monasticisin, 
not  of  religion.  The  teaching  of  the  Bible  is,  that,  if 
a  man  be  just,  and  do  that  which  is  lawful  and  right, 
if  he  have  not  oppressed  any,  if  he  have  executed 
true  judgment  between  man  and  man,  he  is  just,  he 
shall  surely  live,  saith  the  Lord  God.  If  a  man  sell 
his  jewels,  and  support  preachers,  and  build  meeting- 
houses, he  shall  be  holy  to  God,  saith  the  Tract 
Society.  If  Lady  Huntingdon  must  shame  her  Chris- 
tian sisters  because  she  had  but  one  gown  a  3~ear,  how 
much  more  those  holy  mendicant  friars,  who  have  but 
one  sackcloth  shirt  in  seven  3'ears  ! 

I  do  not  believe  that  Lady  Huntingdon  was  half  so 
objectionable  a  woman  as  her  biographer  makes  her 
out  to  be.  Her  independence,  her  strength,  her  zeal, 
her  grasp  and  control  of  circumstances,  were  altogether 
admirable.  She  was  not  always,  but  she  was  often, 
clear-sighted.  Her  activity,  her  vitality,  were  mar- 
vellous. But  when  we  are  taken  to  her  shrine,  and 
bidden  to  bow  down  and  worship,  we  instinctively 
straighten  up  so  rigidly,  that  we  are  in  danger  of 
bending  backward.  We  are  called  upon  to  admire 
weakness  as  strength,  to  revere  tastes  as  virtues.  It 
may  have  been  wise  in  Lady  Huntingdon  to  spend  her 
substance  in  building  chapels  ;  but  to  point  the  moral, 
"Go  and  do  thou  likewise,"  is  an  impertinence.     It 


424  SERMONS  TO  THE   CLERGY. 

was  no  more  an  offering  to  the  Lord  for  her  to  sell  her 
jewels  than  it  is  for  another  woman  to  wear  them. 
An  heir  of  gloiy  may  enclose  as  much  sin  in  one  gown 
a  year  as  in  six  or  sixteen.  The  woman  who  never 
erected  a  meeting-house  in  her  life,  nor  ever  gave  a 
ten-cent  scrip  to  the  Tract  Society,  the  woman  who 
rides  in  her  satin  coach,  and  is  draped  in  velvet,  and 
hung  with  diamonds,  may  be  as  truly  consecrated  to 
God  as  was  Lady  Huntingdon.  What  has  God  done 
that  gold  and  silver  and  purple  and  scarlet  and  fine- 
twined  linen  should  not  be  his  now,  as  in  the  olden 
time?  Of  the  temple  is  left  not  one  stone  upon 
another  ;  but  know  }*e  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple 
of  the  Holy  Ghost?  Therefore,  glorify  God  in  joxxy 
body. 

Real  biography  would  be  the  most  interesting  read- 
ing in  the  world ;  but  that  we  can  seldom,  perhaps 
never,  command.  Nor  is  it  prohibited  to  friends  and 
admirers  to  veil  defects.  But  it  is  not  lawful  to  sum 
up  character  without  reference  to  defects.  Still  less  is 
it  lawful  to  depict  them  as  beauties.  The  cause  of 
right  living  is  not  to  be  promoted  by  such  aid.  What 
we  want  is  to  see  things  as  they  are,  not  to  point  a 
moral,  or  to  support  a  theory.  And  any  religious 
society,  or  any  religious  person,  who  wilfully  distorts 
the  truth,  or  who  ignorantly  mingles  good  and  evil, 


FAIR  PLAY.  425 

wisdom  and  folly,  in  a  weak  moral  mush,  and  then 
deals  it  out  as  the  bread  of  life,  is  likely  to  do  more 
harm  by  nauseating  the  healthy  than  service  in  feeding 
the  hungry. 


THE   END. 


